


The Courage of Stars

by unholyseraphs (oncharredwings)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Attempted Murder, Bad Dirty Talk, Beating, Cancer, Cas has a sexual identity crisis, Cas has an age kink, Criminal!Dean, Death, Dirty Talk, First Time, Fluff, Forbidden Love, Friendship, Guilt, It actually has a happy ending, Letters, Lies, Longing, Lust, M/M, Masturbation, Mutual Masturbation, Prison, Prison Violence, Slow Build, Slurs, incarcerated!dean, remission
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-21
Updated: 2014-07-14
Packaged: 2018-02-05 14:27:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 76,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1821766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oncharredwings/pseuds/unholyseraphs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel Novak is a seventeen year old boy who is just like every other boy his age... except that he has acute lymphoblastic leukemia. As Castiel tries to live his usually lonely life in peace, new people that emerge from the shadows begin to change how he looks at his life and what it means to exist on the human level. He makes new friends, which is new since he hasn't had a friend since the first grade. He even gets to have normal teen experiences, which make him happy to feel "normal", in a world where normal is not his usual. After his doctor tells him that he is going to be moved from the Children's Hospital in Boston to the regular hospital for his treatment, Castiel is devastated. Until he meets one inmate of the county jail, Dean Winchester. The handsome man with the charming smile, and even more tragic and secretive backstory, will change Castiel's life forever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Dodgeball & Slender Man

**Author's Note:**

> I know a lot of people are going to read this and comment about "OH THE FAULT IN OUR STARS AU" but honestly I have not read The Fault in Our Stars, nor have I seen the movie. To be honest, this has nothing to do with that book. I was actually inspired by Orange is the New Black season 2, and my own personal life, SO be aware that this has nothing to do with John Green's novel. I have nothing against the book, I just want you all to know that before you start reading :)  
> I have tried my hardest to research ALL/chemotherapy to make this as accurate as possible. I realize that I cannot be 100% accurate, please don't hound me for it. Thank you.
> 
> Cover Art by [Monica](http://castielcollins.co.vu/)
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> ***EDIT* I changed the title, so sorry, but I like this one more**
> 
>  
> 
> **Edit 2: Castiel is only 17 for the first few chapters, he turns 18, thus making this no longer an "underage" fic**
> 
>  **Edit 3:** This fic now has fanart!! You can see it [here](http://dudewheresmypie.tumblr.com/post/92215259260/for-michelles-fic-the-courage-of-stars)
> 
>  **Update 17/05/2015:** I've updated all of the letters, they should be displaying now. Thank you to those who pointed this out to me!!

 

“Hey, at least you haven’t lost your hair yet, then you’d _really_ be ugly,” Gabriel teased. Gabriel always teased, it was better than admitting something awful was happening to your baby brother, and you couldn’t stop it.

 

Castiel gave his older brother a small smile as he slid into the car after his treatment; it always left him feeling sick and tired. He was hoping that he could at least hold out on vomiting for when he returned to the house. Then he could puke his guts out in the peace of his own bathroom, rather than making everyone uncomfortable in the backseat. Sometimes he could, and sometimes he couldn’t. It all really depended on how sick he felt that day before he went to get his treatment.

 

“You okay, Kiddo?” Gabriel asked, glancing back in the rearview mirror.

 

Castiel nodded slightly before returning his gaze to the world outside of the car. Their charming neighborhood passed them by like a picture book; there were children riding their bikes on the sidewalks, and in their little culs-de sac. There were old, white, middle class men working on their cars in their driveways, while their wives were inside gossiping with their gray haired friends about how their children never came to visit enough. Young couples walking their dogs, holding hands, and smiling at one another as if they were the only people in the universe. Castiel watched them all go by with a weird feeling in his chest; it wasn’t sadness, even though he knew he would never have any of those things. He couldn’t quite place the feeling; it was odd.

 

Or maybe it was just the feeling of nausea, he realized almost too late as he reached for the bucket Gabriel always brought just in case. He retched and gagged on his own body fluids. It was at the very least, disgusting, but the chemotherapy made him sick to his stomach. They were pumping him full of toxic poisons to help kill the cancer in his blood and bones, but that didn’t mean it wouldn’t affect the rest of his body too. The doctors always praised him for his bravery in the face of death, but the truth was, was that Castiel had grown used to being sick. He was just used to the idea that he was dying, and there was nothing anyone could do about it.

 

“You okay, Cas?” Gabriel asked again as he pulled into their cul-de sac. 1662 Swallowtail Drive, that was their address, well their new address. They had moved into this house after their grandmother had passed away; it was one of those newer homes made of brick, with a large front door, glass panels decorating above to show the large chandelier in the front room. The porch was big and had a comfortable swing that Castiel liked to sit on when the weather was nice. They had always found the house to be too big, and too fancy, but now that they lived here? Well, they didn’t mind bragging as much as they thought they would. Even if the upkeep was annoying; Gabriel had to mow the lawn more often than he would have liked, and Castiel tried his hardest to help keep the house spick and span, but he wasn’t a fan of cleaning. Neither was Gabriel.

 

His brother liked to joke that they were the most redneck WASPs in the neighborhood. Castiel had to agree with him most days.

 

“Yep,” he replied tiredly. “Peachy.” He threw up three more times before he could even get out of the car, but Gabriel was standing there, by his open door, helping him into the house when he was ready. The A/C was on full blast, and it made him shiver. Normally, Gabriel turned the unit off after Castiel’s treatment, but after seeing his older brother almost pass out because of heat exhaustion, he had insisted that Gabe leave the A/C _on_. He could just bury himself under blankets like their cat Sunshine.

 

“Upstairs or downstairs?” Gabe asked him, after he shut the front door behind them.

 

Castiel almost fell over but Gabriel wrapped strong arms around him, which helped him stay upright in the front room. “I don’t think I can make it upstairs,” he said, which made him feel all kinds of pathetic. He couldn’t even walk up his own stairs, how fucking ridiculous. Gabriel nodded without a word of complaint, and then he was leading Castiel to the couch, which was dangerously comfortable. They had just received it about a month ago, and since they were hardly home, they had not yet had a chance to break it in proper. It was a wrap-around, with one end long like a bed, and that was where Gabriel laid him. The overly large pillows were set behind his back, so he could stay propped up in front of the TV, which Gabe was soon turning to grab the remote.

 

“You want Netflix or the regular TV?” his brother asked him.

 

Castiel reached tiredly for the remote. “Netflix,” he whispered.

 

Gabe handed him the remote and gave him a thumbs up while he went to turn the XBox on. Netflix was his favorite after treatment; he could fall asleep while watching TV shows, which was his favorite thing to do after the nausea passed. He was on a _Raising Hope_ kick; the show was hilariously stupid, but also clever with interesting messages embedded in each episode. He particularly liked Maw-Maw because she reminded him of his own grandmother before her passing. She had died on his sixteenth birthday, he would never forget that day. Gabriel had looked at him, tears in his eyes, and he had tried his best to make a small joke.

 

 _“You know, Grandma would be_ so _mad at you for not having a birthday party or inviting your friends over today. She’d want you to eat your cake, Cas….and she’d be super mad at herself for dying on your special day.”_  

 

The thought had made him smile because it was true. So, they had ate cake and cried over memories of the woman who had made their childhoods easier and better. Her money had been what had paid for Castiel’s treatments as a child, and it was still the money that paid for his chemotherapy. When he had been diagnosed at five years old, his grandmother had _insisted_ she pay for his medicine and hospital stays, which was good because his parents would not have been able to afford the expenses. He just felt guilty that even dead she was still spending her money on him and his needs.

 

Gabriel was also someone Castiel felt guilt over often, which was what he told his therapist all of the time. Gabe was only twenty-seven; he should have been out dating and having a good life. Instead, he was working two jobs, one at the post office, and the other being Castiel’s full time caretaker. Their parents had died in a car accident, which had left them alone, and they were all each other had. Gabriel never complained, not even when Castiel woke up in the middle of the night so sick he couldn’t get out of bed. He never complained with all of the hospital visits they went on, or how sometimes he had to give up his free time to babysit Cas while he recovered from a round of chemo.

 

Everyone had hope that he would reach remission and be cured, but Castiel had given up hope after he had turned thirteen and he was still being treated for his cancer.

 

Acute lymphocytic leukemia.

 

He had had the disease since he was five years old, if not before then; that was just when they had finally caught it. He had always been sluggish, and tired as a child, always eager for naps. His pediatrician had believed his exhaustive behavior had been due to his anemia, which they had also attributed to his pale skin, and shortness of breath. He had all of the signs of leukemia as a child, but it had only been discovered during a routine check up. His spleen had been enlarged, and after a few blood tests, and one hospital visitation later, he had been diagnosed.

 

He could even recall the day his doctor had told them all. His mother had been beside herself with tears, and his father had been there to place his hand on her shoulder, trying to hold back his own emotion. But Castiel had seen the shimmer of tears in his father’s strong eyes. No tears had come to his own, and he had stared back at his doctor calmly. He had cancer, but he wasn’t going to die his doctor explained. It was early, and with treatment, he would get better. The survival rate was 80% in children who received medical treatment right away. One phone call to his grandmother later, and he was receiving chemotherapy, and his family was being tested for bone marrow matches, _just in case_.

 

 _Just in case,_ became his motto.

  
Bring extra band aids, just in case Castiel falls and cuts his knee. Make sure to have a bucket in the backseat, just in case Castiel needs to throw up after his doctor appointments. Have tissues on hand, just in case you started to cry over Castiel’s predicament. Test for marrow matches, just in case Castiel needed a transplant. Always pack a blanket, just in case Castiel gets cold on car trips, or during his chemo rounds. And always make sure to bring Mr. Flopsy, just in case Castiel needs to hug him. Mr. Flopsy was the rabbit his mother had bought him during his first stay in the children’s hospital all of those years ago; he still had him, the rabbit sat on Castiel’s bed because sometimes, he still needed to hug Mr. Flopsy.

 

“Hey Cas, I’m gonna run to the store,” Gabriel said, reappearing in the doorway. His amber eyes were bright in the well-lit room. “Are you sure you’re okay? I could see if our neighbor would come sit with you.”

 

“I’m fine Gabe,” he replied. “Really, I’ll be okay. I got my bucket, and my phone. I know not to answer the door, and if I feel _real_ bad, I know how to dial 911 for help. I know the drill.” Castiel gave Gabe a thumbs up, which was their universal sign for, _I’m okay, really_ _and truly_.

 

“Kay, see you soon. Thirty minutes tops,” Gabe promised before he disappeared.

 

Castiel listened to Gabe’s steps fade down the hall, followed by the opening and shutting of the front door. There was brief noise of the outside world, and then everything returned to the whirring of the house; their house was actually very nice. Their grandmother had given it to them in her will. She and their grandfather had moved to one of those rich, suburban neighborhoods with the large houses that they had admired and envied as children. But now they owned one, since the house was paid off, and they didn’t have to worry about a mortgage. It had a two car garage, a fancy alarm system, and there was an inground pool out back. Sometimes, Castiel wished he had friends so he could invite them all over for a pool party, but he didn’t have friends. He was the freak with cancer, and freaks with cancer just didn’t have friends.

 

Or at least, that was Castiel’s experience.

 

In the first grade, he had fainted and that was how his class had found out about his sickness. Not to mention he was constantly missing school; he missed so much that he had been held back a year. The kids in his class treated him like he had a disease that could be spread simply by him accidentally sneezing on someone. Before they had moved to be closer to their grandparents, Castiel had had one friend. His name had been Adam Milligan, and Adam had been a really nice boy, with really nice parents. Adam had let him play with his toys, and they sat on the bus together. When Castiel was too sick to go to school, Adam came over to check up on him, and brought him his homework. Sometimes, Castiel really missed Adam.

 

Now they lived in Boston, and Castiel was a frequent visitor of the Boston Children’s Hospital. He had been there so many times, that the nurses knew him by first name, and they were all eager to greet him, and check up on his life’s story. Had he met any girls yet? That question had quickly changed to ‘had he met any boys?’, when he had finally told his head nurse that he was not into girls. They had all been surprisingly accepting of his sexual orientation. They wanted to know how he was doing in school, how was he doing in chemo, and was he feeling better today? The nurses made him smile, and his doctor was even nicer. His grandmother had put him in good hands, and in good hands he had been able to stay because of his grandmother’s funds.

 

The hospital was so dedicated in making him better, that they were not going to turn him away when he reached eighteen. That fact made having cancer just a little bit better, since the idea of having to find a new doctor was terrifying. He _liked_ Children’s, and their research was some of the best in the country. Besides, it was only a twenty minute drive from the house, and from his school it was only ten minutes. The nurses at his school liked to know these things, again, just in case he needed to be taken there for whatever reason.

 

School was hard, and not because he was stupid, because Castiel wasn’t stupid. In fact, he was extremely intelligent, but school was still hard. He hated doing the school work when he had just had treatment; it was hard to focus, and all he wanted to do was sleep. Gabriel had suggested he be homeschooled, but he hadn’t wanted to do online learning. That bored him even more than the regular paper homework did. And even though he didn’t have any friends, going to school with regular kids was nice. It was bad enough that he was the kid with cancer, he didn’t want to be the kid with cancer, _and_ the weird kid who got homeschooled by his brother. That was a level of freak Castiel had no desire to be.

 

It was even harder being gay at his school; there were no boys who ever caught his attention, and even when they did, it wasn’t as if they wanted to meet him. Not that he felt any interest in sex or kissing or any of those things that came with having a boyfriend. He wasn’t sure if he was asexual or just uninterested in sex. He didn’t even watch porn that often; sometimes he would look up gay porn on the internet, but it hardly held his attention long. But he did like to fantasize in his head, especially over his English teacher. _That_ guy was hot. In fact, now that Castiel thought on it, he only really felt sexual attraction to older men, never boys his age. He always fantasized about being swept up by an older gentleman, who had money, and maturity already. He didn’t need to wait for the boys to grow up and mature in his class, when he could just put his eyes on real men.

 

Of course his fantasies were always just that: fantasies. Not only were his fantasies theoretically illegal, but he wasn’t about to come onto his teacher either. He didn’t have the confidence or charm to flirt with a turtle, let alone a real, live human being. His grandmother had always called him handsome, but Castiel just didn’t see it. He was barely five foot, eleven inches, and he wore sweaters and cardigans a lot. He liked cats and tea. Boys like other boys who could pump iron and fuck them until they were in tears from orgasmic joy. Castiel was not a man’s man. He was awkward, sarcastic, and most of the time, he considered himself annoying. Not to mention bad luck. His parents had been on the way to see him in the hospital when they had gotten into their accident; he was still sure to this day, that if they had been going somewhere else, _anywhere_ else, they would still be alive today.

 

He was a bundle of just-in-cases and bad luck. Castiel sighed and then he had to lean over and throw up again. After rinsing his mouth out with the water bottle he always had on his person, Castiel turned his tired eyes back to the TV. Maw Maw was in the middle of wearing a lampshade on her head when Castiel finally fell asleep.

 

☣☢☣☢

 

“Good morning Castiel, how are you doing today?”

 

Castiel put on a smile for his homeroom teacher, Mrs. Winchester; she actually a very nice lady in her fifties. She had blonde hair, which had a bit of a silver sheen to it, but she didn’t appear _old_. Of course, it probably helped that she did not _act_ old either. Not that Castiel considered people in their fifties old, but anyone that reached their twenties without dying always impressed him. He knew too many people who died long before they should have.

 

“I’m doing well Mrs. Winchester, thank you for asking,” he replied politely before walking over to his desk. He had been assigned to the desk closest to the window because sometimes he needed air on his face to keep from throwing up or fainting. Most of his teachers were extremely accommodating, which was helpful to him. It was easier to go to school when he knew that his teachers were going to treat him like a human being, and not like a case study.

 

“You feel alright?” she asked him, since they were alone. She usually asked him how he was doing and how his health was each day he came to class. He had missed a few days, so her tone was already on the edge of worry.

 

“Yeah, I feel fine,” he repeated quickly. “Promise. I don’t feel sick at all today. Sorry I missed class.”

 

“It’s okay Sweetheart, I’m glad you’re feeling better today,” came the reply.

 

He would have this exact same conversation at least five times today with different teachers and classes. The only time he wouldn’t have this conversation would be during P.E. He _really_ strongly disliked P.E., and not just because the teacher was a world class douchebag, but because he was just not an athletic person. Maybe he would have been, if he hadn’t been so sick. He used to like to run, but running was hard on him, when he was in the middle of chemo treatment. If he ever reached remission, he was going to take up running again.

 

Students were starting to file in, so his conversation with Mrs. Winchester was cut short, but Castiel dropped his gaze to his notebook. He didn’t want to make eye contact with anyone in the room; if he made eye contact he opened himself up for conversations about his cancer, and really, he was tired of answering questions about it. He was a person, again, not a case study. He was also not the walking encyclopedia on all cancers. Sure, he knew quite a bit about ALL but that was because he _had_ ALL; he had to know about it. But that did not make him an expert on every other cancer in the universe. His classmates frustrated him when they seemed to believe this, as if he were a M.D. just because he went to the hospital often.

 

“Hi.”

 

Castiel slowly looked up and ended up meeting someone’s gaze on accident. He silently cursed himself for making eye contact, but he had already done it, and he couldn’t take it back now. The eyes he was staring into were lined with black eyeliner, which was smudged a bit underneath long lashes, and a lovely hazel which Castiel had a feeling would look different depending on the makeup she was wearing. Her hair was blonde and slid down her to rest a bit below her shoulders. She was actually a very pretty girl. He was also certain however that he had never seen her before in his entire life.

 

“Um...hi.”

 

“I’m Ruby Mills, what’s your name?”

 

Oh good, he _had_ never seen her before, and she clearly had no idea he was the cancer freak. “Castiel Novak...you can call me Cas. Everyone else does.”

 

“Cas, huh?” Ruby smiled, her teeth perfectly straight and white. He almost commented that whomever did her orthodonture was quite talented, but he kept his mouth shut. “Nice to meet you.”

 

Castiel nodded a bit. “Yeah,” he agreed with a smile. “Nice to meet you too.” It _was_ nice, meeting someone new who didn’t know about him or his illness. It was like wiping his slate clean and starting fresh. He could be anyone, he could do anything. He didn’t _have_ to be the sick kid with this girl. Maybe, he could finally have a friend.

 

Ruby would have said something else but the bell was ringing and class was starting. She gave him a little wink, and then swiveled back around in her chair to pay attention. Mrs. Winchester took attendance, in which gave her the opportunity to introduce Ruby, and then they were discussing Dante’s _Inferno_ , which Castiel was still fairly certain was not appropriate reading for a bunch of seventeen year olds, but that was his opinion. He was not about to share that with the class. They were discussing the final circle of Hell today, which was just a frozen lake; Castiel actually really _liked_ this concept. That the Devil was in an area that was ridiculously cold, rather than on fire. it just completely eradicated the imagery that was so popular in today’s society, and Castiel really loved the idea.

 

Not that he wanted to go to Hell to test the theory, but since Dante’s circles seemed so damn strict, he was sure he’d probably end up in Hell anyway for one reason or another. If Dante was right, that is. Someone was starting to complain that the center of Hell just _couldn’t_ be frozen because Hell was indeed a fiery pit of _doom_. Holding back a snicker had never been so difficult, and he had grown up with the name _Castiel_ for goodness sakes. His parents had been quite religious, but he still found the business downright hysterical at times. Some people took their religion way too seriously.

 

“It’s _just_ a book,” Ruby said, cutting the girl off. “Jeeze, crazy. _Slow down_.”

 

Castiel’s face split into a genuine smile. He really liked this girl.

 

“Hell is not _just_ a book, it is a place-” the girl began again, but Ruby was quickly cutting her off again.

 

“Yeah, okay fine, but _we_ are discussing the _book_. In case you missed the last twenty minutes of class.” Ruby gave the girl a look that clearly shut her up, and then Mrs. Winchester was trying to rein the class back in but it was quickly exploding. Some people thought Ruby was right, and the other girl, Castiel really didn’t remember her name, was wrong. Other students were complaining that _Inferno_ was just plain stupid and they should have read _Twilight_ instead. _That_ idea made Castiel want to vomit inside of his mouth. He would have gladly taken three rounds of chemo in three consecutive days than read _Twilight_.

 

He sighed as the arguing began to fester and spread, completely out of hand. Bless Mrs. Winchester’s heart, but sometimes she was awful at gaining control over her students. It was then that he realized that he was not feeling well; the room was too hot, and he suddenly felt like he couldn’t breathe. He reached for the window, but his stomach was so queasy, he needed to lay his head down. Maybe if he just laid his head down and shut his ey-

 

“Castiel? Castiel-Castiel, honey-”

 

The world was bright; the world was _too_ bright. Way too bright. He groaned and realized that his eyes was glued shut with something sticky. When he went to wipe it away, he winced, and realized his eyes was glued shut with blood. That was definitely blood on his fingers. He had fainted; he must have smacked his head on something. Perfect.

 

Mrs. Winchester and the rest of his class were all staring at him in concern. The school nurse was there too. Castiel tried not to sigh as he went to sit up, but the nurse was telling him to stay down, so he complied. “I feel fine,” he said, which wasn’t completely true. He was definitely _humiliated_ , but physically he felt fine. Minus the throbbing in his head.

 

“Okay, everyone give him some air.” Mrs. Winchester was ushering the class away from him, and the nurse remained to examine him. He had a feeling he was going to end up going home, or to the hospital, which in his opinion, were both grossly dramatic. He didn’t need to go to the hospital because he had had a fainting spell; he had those all of the time. This was normal.

 

“How many fingers, Castiel?” the nurse asked him.

 

Castiel was pretty sure her name was Meg; she was really sarcastic sometimes. He liked her a lot. “Two,” he said, which made her smile for some reason, and then she was helping him sit up. The world spun again, but he was able to stay conscious this time. “I’m fine,” he insisted.

 

“Well, we need to get this gash cleaned up, and then you can probably return to class if you’re feeling okay.” She was easing him into the wheelchair that she must have brought from her office.

 

Castiel sighed and tiredly covered his eyes with his hand so he didn’t have to look at any of his classmates. Especially not Ruby. “Clean slate my ass,” he muttered to himself as he was wheeled off to the nurse’s office.

 

☣☢☣☢

 

“So...you can’t give me an excuse to stay just for this period?” Castiel asked one more time, but Meg gave him _the look_ , which meant he was pushing her buttons, and he needed to get the hell out of dodge. “Right. Thanks.”

 

He had to go to P.E.

 

He didn’t _want_ to go to P.E. He would have gladly fainted _again_ if it meant he could get out of P.E. But the cards were not with him this time, and he had no choice but to trudge down the hallway, his backpack on his shoulders, and his head ducked down. He had a late pass in his hands, and if he knew how to forge he would have changed the times so he could have went to his next class instead of this one. Knowing Nurse Masters, however, she would probably page the class in the next ten minutes just to make sure he made it on time.

 

Gym class should have been banned. There was no feasible reason for teenage boys and girls all changing their clothes, and brutally playing stupid games for an hour. Especially dodgeball. Castiel _really_ hated dodgeball. He always ended up last because he was extremely good at dodging, but he failed at catching or throwing, so by the time he was last, his team was screaming at him to catch the ball, and then he would be pelted with like ten different ones all at once. Dodgeball was stupid.

 

“Ah, Mr. Novak, you’ve made it to class,” Coach Alastair drawled, his quiet voice filtering across the gym with ease. The man was pure evil, Castiel was convinced; he had these extremely intelligent eyes, and an evil smile that would split his face into an expression that he was convinced serial killers wore when they stabbed someone to death. Castiel sometimes liked to liken him to that of Slender Man; he was tall and thin enough, and he was about fifty percent sure that Alastair probably kidnapped children.

 

Castiel walked up to Alastair and handed him the slip, which he took and sneered at; the man didn’t care that he had cancer, which was in a way, extremely relieving. Alastair treated him like anyone else, not something special, and since Castiel didn’t view himself as special, it was a nice reprieve from his special treatment. However, sometimes the man was just downright cruel, and didn’t seem to care when Castiel wasn’t feeling well, or when he just couldn’t participate with the rest of the class because of how tired he felt, or that he had, you know, fainted only fifteen minutes ago.

 

“Go change for class,” Alastair said.

 

“Yes Sir,” he whispered, before turning to go to the boys’ locker room. The locker room was probably one of the grossest rooms in the entire school because it smelled like dirty socks and jizzed-in underwear. Why anyone would _want_ to come into this space was beyond Castiel’s understanding. But he set his bag down and slowly began to strip; luckily he was the only one in here at the moment, since everyone else was stretching and doing laps around the gym before they played a game. Castiel hoped it was a free day; if it was a free day he could get away with dribbling a basketball by himself, or dragging out the badminton racquet and hitting the birdie against the wall the entire time. Badminton was his favorite game, and it was the _only_ game he was vaguely good at. Everyone wanted them on their team when they played badminton; or tennis. He was fairly good at tennis too.

 

Those were the only days he was ever popular. Most of the time, his classmates ignored him or hit him in the face with dodgeballs and volleyballs. He heard Alastair blow the whistle, which meant he had about point five seconds to leave the locker room before he sent someone in to drag him out. So Castiel hustled and quickly pulled on his shorts, and a t-shirt, shoving the rest of his stuff in his gym locker unceremoniously. Gladly leaving the smelly area, Castiel hurried out to line up with the rest of the class, his eyes on the ground. He just hoped that he didn’t faint again, even if that did mean getting him out of class.

 

“Today, we are going to play your favorite game,” Alastair said, a smile slithering into place. “Dodgeball.”

 

The class cheered and Castiel inwardly groaned. Dodgeball was a cruel, evil game that should have been made illegal in all fifty states. He hated dodgeball more than he hated CSPAN, and _no one_ liked CSPAN.

 

“Henriksen, you can be team captain number one…. and-”

 

“I think a _girl_ should also be team captain,” came Ruby’s voice from the opposite end of the line.

 

Castiel leaned forward to peer down at her and he couldn’t help but smile a bit. She was new and didn’t know not to challenge Alastair, it was actually a really nice breath of fresh air. However, her disobedience would probably be short lived, which was a shame. _Someone_ needed to step up to the plate and challenge Alastair’s authority.

 

“I suppose _you_ think you should be the other team captain?” Alastair asked, one of his eyebrows slowly rising.

 

“That’s right,” Ruby said firmly. She straightened her spine and shoved her shoulders back, her blonde hair now up in a ponytail. She even glared up at Alastair as the man walked down the line to stare down at her.

 

“Hm...fine,” Alastair said, which made the class gasp as an entity. “Go ahead.”

 

Ruby smiled and quickly joined Victor to stand and pick students. Henriksen picked first, and his pick wasn’t surprising, he always picked Ash first. Ruby turned and faced him and Castiel stared back at her. She wasn’t going to pick _him_ , that would be stup-

 

“Castiel,” she said with a huge smile.

 

Well, that was stupid. Castiel blinked but when Alastair gestured for him to join the ranks, he slowly walked over to stand next to Ruby. He wanted to shake her and ask her what the hell was wrong with her? He _hated_ this game, and everyone knew he was supposed to be picked _last_. That was just the laws of nature; the sick kid got picked last. Duh. When the teams were made, Castiel couldn’t stop himself from grabbing onto Ruby’s arm to talk to her.

 

“Yeah?” she asked.

 

“Why’d you pick me?” he whispered. “I hate this game.”

 

“Because you’re fucking _metal_ Cas!” she exclaimed. “Dude, you passed out in class and then got up like it was nothing. You’re awesome.”

 

“I’m-I’m really not,” he insisted quickly. “I’m not awesome-”

 

“Sure you are,” Ruby said, before taking up position.

 

The balls were lined up in the middle of the gym and the teams had to stand back and wait for the whistle to blow. For Ruby’s sake, Castiel hoped their team won, but he was bad luck, and he had a feeling she was going to figure that out sooner rather than later. Probably after he ended up being the cause for their team losing, and then it would just go downhill from there. Castiel watched as each ball was aimed and thrown carefully, and just as carefully he stayed out of the way. Dodging he found, was easy; it was the throwing and catching part he didn’t have down pact.

 

The balls whizzed by his head, and several times he almost got smacked in the face, which was supposed to be an illegal move, but it was hardly reinforced. If you were bleeding or your glasses broke, _then_ the rule would be magically back in place, but until that moment happened, hitting in the face was free game. Dodgeball was open season, and the nerds and smaller students were the targets. Castiel ducked and twirled out of harms way until he realized with no surprise at all, that he was alone on his team’s side of the gym. There were only three people on the other side left, which was nice, but he knew he was going to fail.

 

“C’mon Cas, you can do it!” Ruby called. “Dude, you fainted and walked it off like _nothing_. Dodgeball should be a cakewalk for you.”

 

Castiel looked over at her for only a second and then he was having to move out of the way before he was hit with a ball. It was then that he noticed that somehow, his side had _all_ of the dodgeballs. Every single one was littered around his feet like a weird dodgeball graveyard. Castiel slowly knelt to pick one up, and prayed to God that he _hit_ someone, rather than let them catch the ball.

 

“You can do it Cas!” Ruby cheered again.

 

Castiel sighed and decided to at least try, since Ruby was cheering him on so hard and all. Besides, if he _won_ this stupid game, then maybe he could redeem himself a little. Maybe his classmates would stop seeing him as a pariah and someone they could actually talk to, and hang out with. Castiel glanced up at the last three people left; if he threw this ball that meant the other side got a ball but he had the rest, so really the odds were actually in his favor. A maniacal smile came to his face then, and he threw the ball as hard as he could. Considering how much force he used to the throw the ball, he expected it to whiz by and smack one of them in the chest or stomach, but it was like watching a horror movie, slowed down to a comedic level.

 

The ball went about a foot and then just dropped out of the air as if an invisible force had smacked it down as a cosmic joke. His pathetic throw made the class laugh, and when he glanced over at Ruby, he could see that even she looked doubtful. He picked up another ball and attempted to throw that one too, but again, his throw was too weak, and it pathetically made it over the line, so now the other team could snatch onto it like precious candy. Castiel gulped and stared at the guy who had the ball in his hand; it was Henriksen, and he was a notorious face hitter. Maybe if he _caught_ the ball; that would be easier than throwing it.

 

Castiel braced himself and stood his ground. Henriksen winked and then he was throwing the ball as hard as he could. The speed that the ball was racing towards his face made him flail and fall back a step, and he attempted to catch the stupid elusive creature. _Please catch the ball, please catch the ball_. At the last second he shut his eyes and prayed really hard that he would catch it and not get hit in the face; he didn’t need a nosebleed on top of everything else that happened today. It was only second period after all.

 

The ball finally made contact with the hands that he had covering his face, and Castiel grasped onto it as firmly as he could manage. When he slowly peeked, he saw that the ball was most definitely in his hands. He had caught the ball.

 

 _He had caught the ball_.

 

Castiel glanced around the room and really, they could have heard a pin drop, it was so quiet. But then his team broke out into a raucous roar and they were flooding him as if he were their ultimate savior. Ruby threw her arms around him in a tight hug, which seemed kind of strange, since he didn’t know her all that well, but it was a nice hug nonetheless.

 

“I knew you could do it,” she praised him before turning to gather up the balls so they could win.

  
Castiel smiled and looked over at Alastair. The coach nodded at him, and they shared some bizarre, almost kindred spirit moment. He actually hoped it never happened again, but in the moment it was kind of nice to be acknowledged. The smile wouldn’t leave his face for the rest of the day.

 


	2. Sleepover, Interrupted

“I caught the ball.”

 

“You what?” Gabriel asked, turning to look at Castiel as he climbed into the front seat after school.

 

“In gym class, I caught the ball... _and_ I got a phone number of this girl in my class-”

 

“Since when do you care about girls in your class?” Gabriel stared at him as if he had grown an extra head and a half.

 

Castiel rolled his eyes dramatically at his older brother. “ _Since_ I’ve wanted to be considered _normal_. I’m not romantically interested in her, I just want to be her friend,” he explained quickly. “She wants to come over and hang out, and I was wondering if that would be okay? Can she come over?”

 

Gabriel stammered and stared, and for a moment Castiel worried that Gabriel would whip out the parent card and say, _Not until I meet her parents_ , but since he was asking for Ruby to come over to _their_ house, rather than him going over to hers, Castiel figured it would be alright. He stuck out his lower lip and pulled on the puppy eyes, just in case.

 

“Alright, alright. She can come over _after_ Friday. You know that you can’t have friends over during the week, Cas.” Gabriel turned away then and began to start the car up so they could join the line of cars leaving the school grounds.

 

“ _Thank_ you,” Castiel said with a smile. “Why do you look so glum? What’s wrong?” Normally, Gabriel was all smiles and jokes, but today he seemed off, as if he were feeling sick or something was wrong.

 

The pause that came before Gabriel’s next words felt like the deep breath before the plunge into darkness. It was unnerving and it put Castiel on edge. Something _was_ wrong, but he wasn’t sure what; it wasn’t as if they had family to worry over, or even friends for that matter. Had Sunshine died? She was only ten, she wasn’t _that_ old!

 

“Cas, I got a phone call today from your doctor….they’re transferring you to the regular hospital for your chemotherapy. You can still see your doctor at Children’s, but they want you at the other hospital for the chemo,” Gabriel said slowly, his eyes remaining straight ahead. Not that there was much to look at, considering they were going at a snail’s pace to leave the school.

 

“What? Why? Why can’t I have chemo at my hospital?” he asked.

 

“I don’t know, I think he said something about not having enough room, and since you’re old enough, they’re gonna send you to the regular hospital. It won’t be so bad, Cas...you just gotta sit in the chair and get your drips, that’s all-”

 

“Yeah, surrounded by people I don’t even know!” he snapped, not able to stop from raising his voice. He knew, rationally, that it wasn’t right to yell at Gabriel, since his brother had nothing to do with this. However, he had to take his frustrations out on someone, and Gabriel was the closest person in his near vicinity. “I won’t know the nurses-what if they’re mean?! What if-”

 

“Cas, it’ll be okay,” Gabriel insisted. “It’s gonna be fine. Okay? Maybe it’s just temporary.”

 

Castiel looked away with a huff, angrily folding his arms over his stomach. Pouting was a childish thing to do but it was also the only thing he felt that he _could_ do, so he angrily glared out the window and pouted. “Whatever,” he mumbled. The silence stretched on between them all of the way back to the house, and then Castiel looked over at Gabriel after they pulled into the driveway; his brother looked paler than usual, and his eyes had dark circles under them as if he hadn’t gotten much sleep the night previous. All of this pouting and raging, over a stupid hospital transfer, and he hadn’t even bothered to ask Gabriel how his day had gone at work.

 

“Gabriel?” he asked quietly.

 

“What Cas?” his brother replied quietly.

 

“Are you okay? You looked tired. How was work?” He bit his lip in anticipation; something else was wrong. Gabriel always laughed, listened to music, and made jokes, but not today. It was as if his brother was not a pod person and someone else had stolen his real brother away. “Gabe?”

 

“I got fired today,” Gabriel replied tiredly, before taking the keys out of the ignition and tiredly leaving the car to head inside.

 

Fired? Gabriel had been _fired_? But why? Castiel frowned and quickly followed his brother into the house. “Why?”

 

“I don’t know, they’re downsizing I guess….they let me go.” Gabriel shrugged before sinking down onto the couch, running both of his hands over his face. “What are we gonna do Cas? I can’t pay the bills without a job…”

 

“You just-have to look for a new one…” Castiel replied lamely. He wasn’t even sure what else to say; what _else_ was there _to_ say? “You’ll find a new job soon.”

 

“In this economy?” Gabriel snorted and he shook his head. “Yeah, sure I will.”

 

“You _will_ ,” Castiel insisted, sitting down next to Gabriel quickly. “Even if it’s crap pay, you’ll find something...and I’ll use less electricity, and we could do without cable. Netflix is good enough, right? Basic cable is fine, it’s not like we watch a lot of TV anyway. I’ll-I’ll take shorter showers, and I won’t take baths-”

 

“Cas,” Gabriel said gently. “Thanks for the suggestions, but it’s not your job to figure this out, okay? It’s mine. I’ll figure it out. Don’t worry about it. We’ve got Grandma’s money for your medicine and stuff, and that’s what really matters. It’ll be okay….If I really get desperate...I’ll call Michael. Okay?”

 

Castiel slowly nodded. Michael; he hadn’t spoken to his eldest brother in _years_. Michael was thirty, and an annoyingly wealthy business owner. He lived out in California, having dinners with celebrities and important  politicians. It wasn’t as like they _never_ spoke to Michael, but he wasn’t like them; he thought he was better than them for one thing, and Castiel had always found Michael to be a bit of a jerk. However, he also knew that if they were ever in _real_ trouble, Michael would help them. The only time he ever really saw his eldest brother was at Christmas, but Michael hadn’t been able to fly out for the past four years, so Castiel hadn’t even called him since he was thirteen.

 

“Go do your homework,” Gabriel said after some awkward silence. “Please.”

 

“Kay,” he whispered. From the look on Gabriel’s face, Castiel knew that his brother was probably going to call Michael right now and ask for some money.

 

“I fainted today,” he added before going upstairs. “In case you need to...say something to him to get him to sympathize a little.”

 

Gabriel looked up at him in alarm but Castiel was already leaving the room, hurrying on up the stairs to his bedroom. He wasn’t going to do his homework, he was going to text Ruby. Homework was boring, and Ruby was most definitely not boring. He had found out during their lunch that she was from L.A., but her Aunt Lilith had move them out here because of her new job. She had grown up on the East Coast, so it wasn’t such a culture shock from the West, but she still missed L.A. She also had a penchant for using the word _awesome_ , and she had a craving for donuts 99.9% of the time, or so she claimed.

 

After shutting his bedroom door, Castiel went to lie in his bed and smiled when he realized that Ruby had already messaged him twenty minutes go:

 

_hey stranger xP_

 

Castiel’s smile widened and he was quick to reply.

 

**Hi Ruby.**

 

_there u are, thought u were ignoring me_

 

**No, my brother and I were talking about some stuff. Sorry. I’m here now though. Do you have Skype? I like to video chat.**

 

_no but i can get one. hold on. we could facetime, or does that kill ur battery too much?_

 

**I prefer Skype.**

 

_ok. hold on. what’s ur username?_

 

**clarence17**

 

_r u serious?_

 

**Yeah. I like It’s A Wonderful Life. Good movie.**

 

_ok. downloading now. i’ll add you, ok?_

 

**Okay.**

 

He set his phone aside and slid out of bed to go to his laptop which was at his desk. The Macbook, which he had gotten for his birthday, came to life with a little touch, and soon he was pulling up Skype and waiting impatiently for Ruby to add him. It was silly, he realized. He was so _giddy_ over the prospect of having a real friend, but he hadn’t had a real friend since Adam, and having someone to talk to after school was really nice.

 

A message popped up. _Devlgurlxx wants to add you as a friend_. Castiel smirked and accepted the request, and then his computer was ringing. He made sure to smile when the video came up and then they were as face to face as they could get.

 

“Hi,” she squealed a bit. “Hold on a sec-ow fuck-sorry…” Ruby fumbled with her computer before finally carrying it over to what looked like her bed and sitting down again. Her hair was up in a ponytail still, but some of it was falling loose and hanging around her face. She had washed her make up off already, Castiel noted. She looked better without make up in his opinion.

 

“Hi,” he greeted after she relaxed. “Gabe said you could come over after Friday. Is that okay?”

 

“Yeah, sweet. Thanks man.” The camera was full of her chest as Ruby leaned forward to grab a bag of chips and then she was stuffing her face. “Sorry,” she managed after a mouthful. “Starving.”

 

“I understand,” Castiel replied, pulling his legs up to his chest. “So um...thanks for cheering me on in gym today.”

 

“Hey, no problem. I _knew_ you could do it-hey can I ask you something? I don’t wanna be rude, but I gotta ask, is that okay?” There was a moment where Ruby looked worried, as if whatever she had to ask was going to offend him so badly that he would end the call.

 

“Yeah,” he replied.

 

“Is it true that you have cancer?”

 

And there it was, the elephant in the room finally being addressed. He knew that she would find out one way or another. Kids talked, and practically everyone knew he was sick. But at least she asked and didn’t just randomly bring it up in conversation, or ask him a stupid question like, _Why aren’t you bald?_

 

“Yeah,” he replied. “I have leukemia.”

 

“Oh...okay. I just wanted to make sure...I mean I assumed it wasn’t a lie, because who the fuck starts a rumor about someone having cancer? That’d be hella fucked up,” she said before grabbing some more chips. “So, you said I could come over after Friday? Does that mean on Friday after school or Saturday?”

 

Was that it? Was she not going to ask him anything else about the cancer? Castiel stared at her for a moment, and realized that she wasn’t just brushing it under the rug, she was just honestly accepting that he was sick, and didn’t need to be pestered. This girl was honestly an angel in disguise, he was suddenly convinced of this. “Um...Friday after school sounds okay. You could ride home with us. Gabriel picks me up every day.”

 

“Sure,” she said with a classic, huge Ruby smile. “I’d like that. You need me to bring anything? Am I staying over? Is that even allowed? My aunt’s super lax, so she’s cool with co-ed sleepovers and shit, but I dunno how other people feel.”

 

“Oh...I’ll have to ask, it should be fine.” He hoped. It wasn’t as if he had ever even had a sleepover before. This was a whole new experience for him, but she didn’t need to know that. “So...you really don’t wanna know more about my cancer?”

 

Kicking himself in the face sounded like a great idea; why had he asked her that? How stupid. She was being polite and not asking him sixty thousand questions, but because he wasn’t used to such indifference he had to poke the bear.

 

“I mean, I guess I kinda do, but that’s your business. I figure you get a lot of questions all the time, and I’d rather you just...tell me, you know? Like during conversations, and it just kinda comes up on happy accident. I don’t wanna interrogate you,” Ruby replied, raising her voice a bit when she began to wrap up the chips, and the noise almost drowned out her voice. “That cool with you?”

 

Surprisingly enough, it was absolutely _cool_ with him.

 

☣☢☣☢

 

He was having a friend come over to his house today. He hadn’t had someone over since he was in the first grade. The thought alone was making him giddy with excitement. Ruby had to go home to collect her belongings, but he had given her his address, and she was going to drive over after she packed. Castiel was already sitting on his porch waiting for her to arrive. He hardly ever sat outside, Gabriel was always worried he would collapse and he wouldn’t hear it until much later, but Castiel found that to be almost ridiculous. Just because he was sick didn’t mean he couldn’t do things other kids could. He just had to be more careful.

 

He was in the middle of reading a book when a silver car pulled into their driveway. Ruby was soon getting out, a bag in her hand, and a smile on her face. He immediately set his book aside and waved, rising to his feet to wait for her on the porch.

 

“Hey Cas!” she called. “Nice digs, man.”

 

“Um...thank you.” He watched as Ruby jogged up the steps on the porch with a smile plastered on her face. “Oh um..if you could wipe your shoes-sorry, it’s Gabe’s rule..”

 

Ruby waved her hand and proceeded to wipe her shoes on the welcome mat. “I get it man, my aunt is the _same_ way. Seriously, this house is _nice_. What’s your brother do anyway? Is he like...a lawyer or a doctor or something?”

 

The sun was coming in just right to make rainbows dance on the high ceilings from the crystal of the light fixture above their heads. Castiel half smiled, taking pride in their home, which he had never really done before now. Their old house, the one he had grown up in, had barely fit them all inside, and it had ugly yellow walls. He had hated that house. “No, it was my grandmother’s. She gave it to us in her will. Me and Gabe.”

 

“Dude, that’s awesome...I mean it’s not awesome that your grandma died, but getting a house is a pretty sweet deal,” Ruby said with a nod of her head, as she follow Castiel up the stairs and around the corner. “Is that her?”

 

Castiel gave pause before his bedroom door to where she had stopped. Ruby stood in front of one of the larger pictures in the house; it was one of the few pictures they had where most of them were in the photo. “Yeah,” he said, slowly walking over to join her. The picture was from Thanksgiving 1999; he had only been two then, sitting in his mother’s lap, crying because cameras had frightened him, but all of his brothers were there. Gabriel had been twelve, Michael fourteen, and his father was there too, and his grandfather.

 

“Cool.” She gave another nod and then spun to face him, and Castiel blinked with how close they were now. They could have touched noses. “Oh, whoops. Sorry.” A blush began to blossom along the apples of her cheeks before she took a step back. “So..um..which one is your room?”

 

Castiel gestured behind them. “Back there.”

 

“Cool...cool...so um...can we go in? Or is there some secret ritual we gotta do first?” she joked.

 

Castiel smiled slightly before leading Ruby back to his door and inside his room. The walls were sea foam blue, or that was what the can had said when they had bought the paint, the carpets were creamy tan, and so squishy that Castiel loved to dig his toes into it sometimes. He had anchors and pictures of the ocean on his walls; he missed the ocean.

 

“Someone likes the ocean, huh?” she teased with a smile. “I like the decor though, it’s pretty. You ever been? Auntie and I used to go down to the boardwalk all the time, and the beaches. It’s pretty rad. Surfing is fun too, I loved surfing.”

 

He glanced around his room and took it all in for a moment, before walking over to sit on his bedspread. Ruby soon joined him, bouncing them a little with a giggle. Most parents or guardians would have been worried having a teenage boy and a teenage girl home alone in the boy’s room, but Castiel wasn’t worried. He had no interest in Ruby, and he couldn’t tell if she was interested in him, but if she was, it would be short lived. “Yeah, I grew up in Maine.”

 

“Really? Wow, that’s kinda cool. Sounds boring though. Dude, do you have french fries in your house? Those are deep fried _crack_ , and they sound so good right now. If not, I can run us to Mickey D’s and get some. You hungry?”

 

Sometimes, Ruby spoke so quickly and changed her topics so frequently that Castiel had a hard time keeping up with her. “Um..we might, I don’t know. We’d have to check.”

 

“Okay, sweet. Let’s go do that then. Sorry-I’m just so hungry. And french fries man, _french fries_.” Ruby grabbed his wrist, and then he was being drug back out of his room and down the stairs until they found the kitchen. “Dang, I could fit my whole bedroom in here.”

 

Castiel had the grace to blush before leaving her to look at the digital picture frame. The freezer was usually packed full of food but right now it was barren. There no french fries. “Sorry Ruby, we don’t have any french fries,” he lamented.

 

“It’s cool. Let’s go get some. I can drive,” she replied as she straightened up and pulled out her keys from her purse, which was hanging around her hip.

 

They were home alone because Gabriel was out job hunting, but he had promised Gabriel that they wouldn’t go anywhere. But what could a run to McDonald’s hurt? It was just up the road anyway. “Sure,” he replied with a smile.

 

Ruby grinned and gave him a thumbs up.

 

☣☢☣☢

 

“What were you _thinking_?” Gabriel demanded, even as his voice was wavering and watery. “Jeeze, trying to give me a heart attack or something?”

 

“I’m fine Gabriel,” Castiel tried to tell him desperately, but Gabriel was hugging him tightly and there was no arguing with him when he was upset.

 

“You’re fine? Really?” his brother snapped. “Your wrist is _broken_. How is that fine?”

 

Castiel sighed and glanced down at his cast that the doctor had just finished putting on him. The drive to McDonald’s had been more eventful than they had planned, when a furry creature, neither of them was sure what it was, had run out in front of Ruby’s car. She had jerked the wheel to keep from hitting it and had slammed the car into the guardrail. They were both lucky that there wasn’t more damage to either of them, and no one else had been on the road at the time.

 

“It doesn’t hurt that bad,” Castiel said, which was true. He had experienced worse pain during his chemo. “Gabe, I’m okay.” He gave his brother a thumbs up.

 

Gabriel sighed heavily. “I told you two to _stay_ in the house-I don’t like this Ruby girl-”

 

“Gabe, it wasn’t her fault! You can’t tell me that I can’t be her friend when she’s the _only_ person to be my friend in years.” The words came out more angry than he had intended, but Ruby being his friend was important. She was the first person to _be_ his friend in years, and this mattered to him. He wanted a best friend, and he would cling to Ruby like she was his life support in the middle of shark infested waters, no matter what Gabriel said to him.

 

“Hey,” came Ruby’s voice, which made Gabriel turn and Castiel perked up. “....Cas, I’m _so_ sorry. Are you okay?”

 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he said quickly, even as she walked in to check for herself.

 

“Christ, you have a cast on!” she gasped, her free hand going to his fingers. “Shit-I’m sorry-” Then she glanced to her right and realized Gabriel was standing there and her eyes grew a little wider. “Oh-you must be Gabriel...I’m sorry-I’m so sorry-”

 

“It’s okay,” Castiel insisted. “What happened to you? Your arm-it’s in a sling, you look worse than I do!”

 

Ruby looked over at him nervously but then her eyes were darting right back to Gabriel. “Um...they said I fractured my collarbone, so I have to keep it in this. But I’m fine, really. Mr. Novak, Sir, I’m very sorry for what happened to me and your brother. I swear, I’m usually a good driver….the animal...thing, it came out of nowhere, and I just reacted. I’m very sorry-”

 

Gabriel sighed and Castiel held his breath. If Gabriel banned him from seeing Ruby, he didn’t know what he would do. Cry, for one thing, but that was so miniscule compared to the pain he would feel forever after the banishment. He almost started protesting about how unfair it would be, if Gabriel did such a thing, but then his brother surprised him. He said, “I forgive you. It’s okay...accidents happen, and you’re both in one piece, that’s what matters…. And you two are just gonna have to be the ones to pay for my hospital bills when I have a damn heart attack, because I was pretty damn close over the phone.”

 

Castiel rolled his eyes at his brother’s comment, but he couldn’t stop the smile from returning to his face either. At least, Gabriel still had his ability to make snarky comments in dire situations.

 

Ruby visibly relaxed and turned to face him again. “I have to go home...my stuff is still at your house, my aunt is gonna come pick it up tomorrow. I’m really sorry I ruined our night.”

 

“No, you didn’t,” he told her firmly, which was true. In fact, she had made his life _interesting_. More than just chemo and cancer. She had made his life _normal_ ; teenagers going out and getting into trouble. He had never felt so normal before in his life. “Thanks, Ruby.”

 

“For breaking your wrist?” she asked, her voice incredulous.

 

“For helping me feel normal,” he whispered, and they both knew he wasn’t just talking about this event, but at school too. “Thanks for...treating me like a person, and not a disease.”

 

“Hey, no problem...you _are_ a person after all-” Ruby cut off when a blonde woman poked her head in and snapped at her to hurry along. It must have been her aunt. “I gotta go. Bye Cas.” She slid to her tip toes and pressed her lips to his cheek in a chaste kiss, and then she was going out the door to join her aunt. Castiel chose to ignore the glare that her aunt gave him.

 

“Ready to go home, Kiddo?” Gabriel asked him, drawing him back to the reality of the hospital.

 

“Yeah,” he said quietly. “Yeah.”

 

 


	3. Visitation Day

Wednesday was visitation day. Dean loved Wednesdays. The guards escorted him into the room where the visitors were waiting at their tables, and he lit up immediately when he saw Sammy sitting at one, his fingers tapping some nonsense rhythm into the table. Once he was seated, Dean grinned at Sam from ear to ear, but his little brother did not return the gesture.

 

“What?” he asked. “C’mon Sammy, ain’t you happy to see me?”

 

Sam sighed and leaned against the table, his sweater vest bunching up against the edge a bit. “Dean, you’re in jail. I mean, I’m always glad to see you, it’s just jarring, okay? Every time, it doesn’t get any easier for me.”

 

Dean rolled his eyes but he didn’t say anything else about it. “Yeah, whatever,” he muttered. A tickle formed in the back of his throat, and then he was coughing. He covered his mouth and coughed a few more times, which only made Sam’s puppy eyes appear and become enormous. “Fine,” he wheezed once the fit passed.

 

Sam shook his head and leaned into Dean’s space more. “You’re _not_ fine,” he hissed. “You have-...you have fucking cancer, that’s not _fine_.”

 

“Doc says I’ll be okay,” he replied tiredly. Not that he believed the son of a bitch. He had been recently diagnosed with some chronic version of leukemia, which he had learned was better than the acute version, but to him, cancer was cancer. He would rather not have it in his body. But since they had caught it early, the doctor firmly believed that he would be alright. For Sam’s sake, he hoped so.

 

“You’d be better if you weren’t in jail,” Sam replied.

 

“Well, my sentence is almost up, Sammy. I got what? Eight months. That ain’t bad. I’ll be fine for eight months, alright?” Dean hated talking about the cancer; he wanted to ignore it as much as he could, since it made him appear weak. He couldn’t appear weak in here; not that many people messed with him. He was friends with Benny Lafitte, and no one messed with Lafitte.

 

“If you say so Dean-”

 

“I _do_ say so,” he snapped, raising his voice before flinching and slowly going back to a normal talking level. “I do say so...I know you’re worried Sammy, but eight more months and I’m a free man.”

 

That made Sam nod. “Yeah,” he agreed quietly. “Then you can come home.”

 

Dean also nodded in agreement. “Yep,” he said. “I can come home. So, tell me, how _is_ home anyway?”

 

☣☢☣☢

 

Armed robbery when he was around twenty years old was what had put him in jail; he hadn’t hurt anyone, but apparently he had been a big enough of a threat to warrant a twelve year sentence. He was thirty-two, and he had spent the majority of his prime behind cold bars. Jail had been hard at first, as it was with anyone, but after proving that he could hold his own, and kick just about anyone’s ass, Dean had found himself a niche on the inside. Being best friends with Benny Lafitte helped too. No one knew why Benny was on the inside, and no one asked either. Even Dean had never pestered him for long on the matter, but whatever it was, it was keeping him in here even after Dean was long gone.

 

Dean’s money was on first degree murder.

 

“Your brother get on you today?” Benny asked him as he returned to the yard after Sam’s visitation.

 

“Is the day long?” Dean replied tiredly.

 

Benny snorted and returned to looking at the woods beyond the jail cell fence. “He should be jizzin’ his panties in excitement, ain’t you gettin’ out soon?”

 

“Yeah,” he said, slowly sinking down to join Benny at his bench. “Eight more months and then I’m a free man.”

 

“S’good,” Benny said.

 

The overcast sky made the day seem more dismal than it should have been, but ever since his diagnosis everything seemed dismal. Even Benny’s Cajun accent, which was usually fairly cheery. For a man locked away for life, Benny was normally a very happy guy. Dean slowly looked over at his friend and found himself just staring at him, not even meaning to, but Dean realized right then and there that he was going to die. Death was inevitable for everyone, but he had a feeling his check-out ticket was a hell of a lot sooner than he thought it was going to be.

 

“I’m gonna die, Benny,” he said quietly. “Soon.”

 

Benny looked over at him then, and their eyes locked in some intense staredown. Eventually Benny smiled sadly and gave a small shake of his head. “Nah,” he replied. “You’re a stubborn son’bitch. You ain’t gotta die...not without a fight at least. Besides, they got good medicine nowadays. You’ll be fine. Eight more months ain’t gonna kill ya...and they got you on that chemo now, you’ll be just fine.”

 

“You think?” he whispered. Fear was a real and primal emotion that did not do one well while in prison, but Dean allowed himself to be afraid in Benny’s presence. He wasn’t ready to die; he hadn’t had a chance to really _live_ yet, which wasn’t fair. He had robbed that store because Sam had needed the food, and they had been out of cash. In his opinion, he didn’t deserve jail time, but he hadn’t been the ones to decide if he should spend his penance in a correctional facility. Everyday he regretted his choice, since Sam had still gotten no food, and then he had been put away like an animal, which had left Sam alone with their drunk father.

 

Somehow, Sam had had survived, gone to college, done all of that. Dean was downright proud of the little snot nosed brat, and now that he was finally ready to walk free, he wasn’t ready to _die._ It wasn’t fair, it just wasn’t fair.

 

“Yeah,” Benny said with a firm nod. “You got your brother to live for, you’re gon’ be fine. Don’t worry Dean, you worry and you’ll get sicker. Think about gettin’ outta here. Think about _that_. Got it? Fight it, fight this thing.”

 

Dean nodded slowly. Benny was right, he had to fight this cancer so he could live his life with Sam. So he could live his life for Benny. So he could live his life for _him_. The bell was soon ringing and slowly, he and Benny stood so they could head back inside. “You’re right,” he said. “I can fight this.”

 

Benny smiled and clapped his shoulder. “That’s what I like to hear, brother.”

 

☣☢☣☢

 

_“I’m hungry,” Sam whispered. “I’m really hungry Dean.”_

 

_Dean looked over at his sixteen year old brother and felt his heart break. Sam was so thin that it was making Dean feel sick. They had no money right now, and he wasn’t even sure when they would be getting more, but Sam_ needed _to eat. So, Dean nodded and got up. “I’ll bring you something to eat Sammy, don’t worry.”_

 

_When Sam nodded and curled back up on the threadbare couch, Dean slid to his feet and went to his father’s room. The old man kept a gun loaded under his bed, so Dean slid down onto his hands and knees to grab it, checking to make sure it was loaded. Hopefully, he wouldn’t have to use it, but Sam was hungry, and there was a convenient store up the road. Dean had five finger discounted it before, but this time Dean knew that they needed the cash more than a few candy bars. The night was cold as Dean walked out, the leather coat that his father had given him was thin and falling apart in places; he needed a new one, but that would have to wait._

 

_Snow slid down from the sky in lazy circles as Dean walked with his hands shoved into his pockets. The amber light of the street lights lit his way as he walked from their tiny apartment and up to the store, where its white fluorescent lights were on inside. The man working spoke little English, but Dean was fairly certain brandishing a gun would definitely get him what he wanted. The door chimed as Dean stepped inside, and he waited patiently for the family that was already in the store to leave; he wasn’t about to rob the store in front of a bunch of little kids. The man at the register barely looked up at him until he walked up and slowly removed the gun, pointing it at him._

 

_“Look,” he said heavily. “I don’t wanna hurt you, but I’m gonna need the money in your drawer.”_

 

_Panic seized the poor man, and Dean did feel bad for pointing a gun at him, but soon the drawer was lying on the counter and Dean was pocketing the money into his jacket. If he had been smarter, Dean would have realized that there was a cop walking up to the store with his partner. If he had been smarter he wouldn’t have robbed the man at gun point. If he had been smarter he wouldn’t have been arrested that night, and if he had been smarter he wouldn’t have disappointed Sammy so heavily. He wouldn’t have left Sammy alone._

 

☣☢☣☢

 

Dean slowly rolled over on his cot and tried not to think too hard on what he had done that night. He had been kicking himself ever since he had been arrested, but it was said and done now. Messing up had always been such an easy task for Dean, but this one had been a royal mess up. The biggest fuck up he had ever committed, and in all honesty, Dean just wanted to know if the man he had robbed was doing okay. Did he still think on that night too? Did it haunt him like it haunted Dean?

 

December 17, 2002.

 

That was the night his life had ended. Dean could never forget it, not even if he had wanted to.

 

 


	4. Criminal Advice & Cosmic Jokes

“How’s your arm?” Ruby asked him when she came into homeroom the following Monday.

 

Castiel glanced up at her and gave her a smalls mile. “How’s _your_ arm?” he countered. “Or collarbone, I suppose.”

 

“Eh, it’s okay,” she said. “I’m just glad it wasn’t my writing hand, or I’d be all kinds of fucked.”

 

Castiel nodded in understanding. He was also lucky that his broken wrist had been his right hand and not his left. He needed his left hand for just about everything. He had to go and get his chemotherapy after school, which he was not looking forward to whatsoever, but it was necessary. Part of the time he wanted to stop receiving the treatments, and he would just die, and stop existing. Then he would no longer be a burden on his family. He had even said that to Gabriel once, which had left them both in helpless tears.

 

In hindsight, Castiel had realized saying that to his brother, who sacrificed everything on his behalf, had been a really stupid and selfish idea. But that had been years ago, and Castiel wasn’t feeling as awful as he did at first. Not that cancer was _fun_ by any means; he still hated the disease and wished he would just go into remission already, but the cancer kept on destroying his body, mutating and changing to stay a step ahead of his doctors. It was like the thing had a mind of its own, and was just waiting to drag him under the black waters of death and put him to sleep.

 

“Hey, at least we probably get out of gym,” Ruby pointed out with a wild grin.

 

Castiel returned her smile because she was _right_. They could get out of stupid P.E. The thought made the idea of going to get chemotherapy after school tolerable, rather than dreadful. Even if he knew the medicine would make him throw up for hours on end, and he would just want to sleep. “I have to go get medicine after school,” he said, which he hadn’t really meant to say out loud, but for some reason he wanted Ruby to know. Most of the kids never asked him when he went to get chemotherapy, or how it worked, or what it really did. Not that he wanted to tell them anyway.

 

“Oh?” she asked, slowly turned to face him in her seat. “Is that bad? Does it make you sick?”

 

Castiel nodded solemnly. “Yeah, it makes me throw up a lot. It sucks.”

 

“But it’s what’s keeping you going, so that’s good, yeah?” she pointed out. “I mean, it’s what is keeping your cancer from like...killing you.”

 

“Yes,” he admitted. “It’s still not fun. They’re pumping me full of poison, I’m surprised the poison hasn’t given me more cancer to be honest.”

 

Ruby gave him a saddened look. “You don’t have to define yourself as your disease you know,” she said quietly. “If you don’t want to. You can be more than just ‘the kid with leukemia’... You can be ‘the kid with the nautical stuff on his walls’ or ‘the kid with the eyes like the ocean’, or ‘the kid who sucks at throwing dodgeballs’. Something cheesy like that.”

 

He hadn’t expected to hear those words from anyone’s mouth, let alone hers, but now that she had said them he could only stare at her in wonder. The bell was ringing, so that ended their conversation, but Castiel could not let go of what she had said to him either. He had never really been more than just the kid with cancer; that had been his trope all of his life. He was the token sick kid, the token statistic. That had been his life story his _entire_ life. To be more than just the kid with cancer was like asking the moon to be more than just the moon; that was just who he was.

 

The kid with leukemia.

 

But what happened when the kid with leukemia grew _tired_ of being just that? What if he wanted more? What if he wanted to be more than his cancer? What if he wanted to be ‘the kid who ran for class president’ or ‘the kid who went to college’? Castiel stared at his notebook, and the blue lines ran together so extremely, it made him dizzy. It took him a moment to realize his suddenly blurred vision was due to hot tears filling his eyes. More than his leukemia; more than his disease. He was not a disease, he was a person, and all of his life he had strived to be _more_.

 

Seventeen years later and he was finally something more to someone other than Gabriel. Castiel slowly raised his teary eyes to the back of Ruby’s head and tried not to sniffle or sob. She probably had no idea what her words meant to him, but she didn’t need to see him crying like a baby either. It was such a rare thing to _exist_ ; amazing and beautiful. Castiel had found himself loving life more than ever since he had been diagnosed, but sometimes, along the way, he forgot to appreciate living. He forgot to be more than cancer.

 

His eyes fell on his arm, and suddenly he was imagining black ink with lyrics on his forearm. He really wanted a tattoo but he wasn’t even sure if he could _get_ a tattoo, with the cancer in his blood. Of course, the chemo was going to make him even more immune compromised, so getting a tattoo should probably have been the furthest idea from his mind, but he couldn’t stop thinking about the idea. _How truly beautiful it is to exist_. He wanted that lyric on his arm in script, so he wouldn’t forget.

 

“Ruby,” he whispered, to which she turned her head slightly so she could hear him better. “Thanks...for reminding me.”

 

After the period bell rang, and he had his books gathered up in his arms, Castiel almost felt stupid for having such a revelation at eight in the morning, but he tended to have weird thoughts at weird times of the day. This was normal for him. Once he and Ruby fell into pace with one another in the hallway, she gave him a look, one he wasn’t sure he was reading correctly.

 

“What?” he asked.

 

“What did I remind you?” she countered.

 

“That it’s actually really amazing that I exist...that any of us exist. That we just _exist_. It’s really beautiful...in a tragic way.”

 

“Oh…” Ruby frowned and tilted her head then. “God, you are _so_ weird,” she said after a pause.

 

He rolled his eyes and followed her into American History. Today, they were supposedly finally moving beyond the Industrial Revolution, but in Castiel’s experience that was where they always got stuck and just stalled out, no matter how many years of history he took. For once, he really hoped that they _did_ go beyond this time period. What happened after the Industrial Revolution? To be honest, he had no idea but he was hoping they could finally learn.

 

Crowley, their obnoxious teacher from Britain, who liked to make them all feel like twats, was sitting at his desk when they walked in. Castiel went and sat in his usual seat by the window, since he always had prime seating by the windows in case he needed to crack one for air. It was a common understanding that he needed extra air sometimes, especially when he was returning to school after a round of chemo. Ruby sat behind him, and then Crowley was getting up to address them after the bell rang again. He hardly ever wasted time to start class.

 

“Today,” Crowley began. “We are going to watch a movie.”

 

The class remained silent, just in case it ended up being a documentary on the Great Depression or something. They weren’t going to rejoice over a movie if it were a documentary. Castiel _liked_ documentaries, but that wasn’t something he just advertised like a proud t-shirt.

 

“On…” Crowley used a dramatic pause, which made the class groan as one entity. Times like these, where they all had to suffer together, were the times Castiel felt like a part of the group, even if it was painful as hell. “The Industrial Revolution.”

 

Another groan, and there were some students who bursted into complaints. They were supposed to be moving _beyond_ this period in history. They were supposed to be talking about new things today, not watching a movie on the same old, same old. Castiel sighed and flipped his history notebook open. He would just doodle. That was easier than pretending to listen to something he didn’t care about, and maybe he should have cared more about the Industrial Revolution, but after so many years of just...being stuck on it, he couldn’t care less about the stupid thing.

 

Crowley ignored the class’ protests, and instead went to pop the movie into the DVD player. Sometimes, Castiel had to wonder if teachers allowed their students to watch movies so they didn’t have to do real work that day. Not that he blamed them; the students and teachers alike were overworked, and everyone deserved a break now and again. So Castiel happily began to doodle, while the drone voice of the narrator filled the classroom, and one by one students began to drop off like flies. Crowley was back at his desk, not even paying attention to them. Here was hoping they didn’t have a pop quiz tomorrow.

 

☣☢☣☢

 

_“Michael wants you to Skype him.”_

 

_Sundays were ‘eat whatever the fuck is left in the fridge nights’ so they had combined spaghetti and pizza into a really bizarre meal. Gabriel had joked and told him he was getting a head start on college eating. Not that he believed he would go to college. Despite how weirdly delicious dinner actually tasted, that did not stop him from pulling a face and staring at Gabriel as if his brother had just told him to eat a whole can of spinach._

 

_“Why?” he asked incredulously._

 

_“He wants to see how you’re doing,” Gabriel replied nonchalantly._

 

_“I’m sick,” Castiel quipped back snarkily. “He knows that… or did he forget because he hasn’t seen me in four years?”_

 

_“Look, that’s just what he wanted me to tell you Cas. Stop getting on my case about it.” Gabriel shoved more pizza into his mouth, which basically indicated that the conversation was over._

 

_That didn’t mandate that Castiel had to_ end _the conversation however. “What if I don’t want to Skype him? What if I just don’t feel like it?”_

 

_Gabriel sighed. “Cas, he’s your brother-”_

 

_“Oh_ now _he’s my brother? He wants to be my brother_ now _? He hardly comes out to see us, or talk to us, but_ now _he wants to be my brother? Why? Does he want me to be his new charity case? Like,_ ‘Look _business people...look at my sick brother and how I’m signing them a check to cover Castiel’s future college tuition that he’ll never use because it’ll go to his medical bills, but see I’m a_ good _person for giving Castiel, my very sick brother, money.’ No thanks.”_

 

_In all fairness, Castiel knew it probably wasn’t very kind of him to judge his oldest brother, since he was a busy and important man out in California, who probably honestly didn’t have the time to check in as often as he should have… but that didn’t stop Castiel from feeling bitter about the whole situation. Michael had never really wanted to_ be _his family, not when he was little, and certainly not now. He had a feeling that this had some odd ulterior motive that he had either just guessed, or he was not completely aware of just yet. He just couldn’t decide if Gabe was in on it or not._

 

_“Cas, that’s not fair and you know it,” Gabriel chided. “I told him you would Skype him once you weren’t puking your small intestine out.”_

 

_Castiel groaned and shoved his plate away. “_ Thanks _for that descriptor Gabe, I appreciate it.”_

 

_Gabriel smirked and gave him a waggled eyebrow wink. “That’s what Michael said. You two are more alike than you’d like to believe, Cas.”_

 

_Castiel groaned and pressed his forehead into the table._

 

☣☢☣☢

 

The new hospital smelled of death and decay, and the bland decor made him want to gouge his own eyeballs out of his head. Everything was just so _blah_. Why did a hospital with dying _people_ inside have to be so ugly and blase՛? They also had to buy a parking ticket, which wasn’t the case at Children’s.

 

“You know they’re going to charge you an arm and a leg,” Castiel pointed out as they walked together into the hospital. “You should have just dropped me off like usual-”

 

“I wanted to make sure you got here okay,” Gabriel cut him off insistently. “Okay?”

 

“Yeah, yeah okay,” Castiel muttered. “I’m seventeen now, I don’t need you to hold my hand when they stick me anymore.”

 

“Cas, I know that,” Gabriel said with as much reassurance as he could muster. “But I still like to know where you’re going, and who you’re seeing...it’s my _job_ to know these things. Besides, I gotta see if there are any cute nurses, y’know what I mean?” Gabriel nudged him in the ribs and waggled his eyebrows suggestively; the whole gesture made Castiel want to bang his head into the wall.

 

“You’re such an idiot,” he told him matter-of-factly, which Gabriel chose to ignore.

 

They had to follow the hospital signs that Castiel were sure changed every single time they reached a new floor, but eventually they arrived at the treatment center where they were supposed to be. He was late by ten minutes, but hopefully they wouldn’t penalize him since it was his first time even in this hospital. The nurse at the front desk was rather pretty, even Castiel had to admit that much. He was gay, not blind.

 

“Good afternoon ma’am,” Gabriel greeted her with a smile that, in Castiel’s opinion, always somehow came off sleezy. His older brother never passed up an opportunity to flirt, “Sorry we’re late, we got a bit lost. One Castiel Novak is here to get some poison in his veins,” Gabriel joked.

 

From the look on the nurse’s face it wasn’t a very good joke, or maybe they were just more no-nonsense at this hospital. She thrusted a clipboard at Gabriel and then she was ushering Castiel back into the room quickly without barely a word. He gave his brother a look of slight terror; already this was not going so well. The nurse, Castiel hadn’t caught her name yet, ushered him to a chair and had him sit. The other patients, all of varying ages, were all sitting and receiving their treatments, but Castiel noted that he was the only young person in the room. Everyone else was _old_. He almost sighed, but Castiel bit his tongue and rolled up his sleeve so she could swab his arm for the IV.

 

“This’ll sting,” she said to him as if this were his first needle in his veins. He wanted to make a snarky comment, but again, he swallowed the words and allowed her to stick the needle into his veins. She was right, it did sting.

 

“Ow,” he hissed, almost yanking his arm out of her hands. At Children’s they used a butterfly needle on his arm, since he had such small veins, but he had been sure to drink lots of water today. That didn’t stop her from digging around in his arm until she finally found one.

 

“Sorry,” she replied quite unapologetically before setting up his bag. “There...be back in an hour, kid.”

 

“Yeah, whatever,” he growled in annoyance. Castiel angrily slumped in his chair, trying to fish for his phone. He had tried to conserve his battery today so he could play Candy Crush while he received his medicine. He was on level three hundred, which Ruby had told him made him an addict, but he had ignored her; she was just jealous that he was ahead of her anyway. Besides, all he had was time to play the stupid game anyway. He only played when he was getting his chemo… and when he was in the car… and in study hall. Okay, maybe he was a bit addicted.

 

After ten failed tries of beating level three hundred, since Ruby kept sending him extra lives, Castiel’s heart jumped when he saw that his phone was telling him he had less than ten percent battery left… and he still had forty-five minutes to go. “ _No_ ,” he squeaked at his phone. “Don’t die, you can’t die _now_. C’mon, do me a solid iPhone, _don’t_ die.”

 

When he really _needed_ his phone, and it was below ten percent, it somehow always died faster, as if the battery knew he needed it to last. The phone committed suicide in less than ten minutes. Time of death: 3:30 p.m. Castiel felt like crying, which was stupid, but he was so _bored_. There was no one to talk to here; he didn’t know anyone, and he was not fond of strangers. Especially since he had no one on his left, and to his right was the door. He was a lonely island with no entertainment left. Gouging his eyes out of his skull sounded like more fun than this torture; talking to the obnoxious fourteen year old girl with lymphoma, who always called him _Casteel_ no matter how many times he corrected her, sounded like more fun than this.

 

Writing a paper for _Crowley_ sounded like more fun, or even running laps for Alastair. Castiel sighed and banged his head back against his chair a few times, until the old woman with the overly-dyed red hair gave him a dark look that clearly read _stop_. So, he sighed exasperatedly and shut his eyes. He knew that he was being annoying, and probably overly bratty, but he had earned it in his opinion. He had been carrying the cancer torch for so long now that it was just a part of his being; he _deserved_ to be overly bratty during the thing he hated more than he hated dodgeball. And everyone knew how much he hated dodgeball...okay, not _everyone_ , but he tried to make it known whenever the topic was somehow brought up. Not that it would be brought up _here_ in this place that smelled like toxic chemicals and death; this place that was so dull it made his eyes metaphorically bleed. This place sucked, and not the fun kind either.

 

At least he could try and take a nap, he supposed, even though he spent most of life sleeping when he wasn’t in school. Castiel settled back into his chair, wishing he had a blanket, before finally shutting his eyes. He heard the door open and someone was talking to the nurse quietly, he couldn’t make out what they were saying, but there was some jingling, shuffling, and then he felt a presence join him on his left. Castiel dared to open his eyes just a bit so he could peak, and then he had to blink them open and do a doubletake. There was an extremely attractive man sitting next to him; he was of fair complexion, his hair tawny, and his face attractively scruffy. He had a charming smile as the nurse began to put the needle in his arm, and Castiel could tell the man had freckles. He was tragically handsome… and completely out of Castiel’s league.

 

For one thing, he was “too old” for him, or that was what Gabriel would say to him. Secondly, as Castiel surveyed this man, he couldn’t help but notice something was off about him. He ran his eyes over him a few times; his outfit was simple and tan, his jacket a dark blue denim, but when Castiel glanced again, he saw the man had shackles around his ankles. This guy was in _jail_ ; a criminal...he was sitting next to a bona fide criminal. _Holy shit_.

 

Once he had his IV in, he winked at the nurse, who did blush but she was brushing him off quickly and sternly, which didn’t seem to discourage him any. Then Castiel was fixed with eyes the color of grassy fields in spring time. The guy’s smile faded and he looked annoyed. “What are you looking at?” he asked.

 

“Sorry,” Castiel whispered, quickly trying to find something else to stare at. He settled for looking at the clock, but his eyes didn’t stay there long. He eventually looked over at the man again, but on second thought turned his eyes to his dead phone instead. Maybe the nurse had an iPhone charger she would let him borrow. Mostly everyone had iPhones these days. The nurses at Children’s would have let him borrow _their_ phone chargers, but this no-nonsense place that allowed criminals to sit next to seventeen year old boys didn’t seem like the kind of place to allow patients to borrow nurses’ personal property.

 

“Miss?” he called to the nurse. It wouldn’t hurt to ask at least. “Do you have an iPhone charger by chance?” He stared at her as sadly as he could; if he looked as pathetic as he felt, maybe she would take pity on him.

 

“Sorry, no,” was the swift reply, in which she barely even glanced at him.

 

“Figures,” he whispered to himself.

 

“You kids and your damn cell phones,” the man next to him said with a dark chuckle. His voice was deep and in Castiel’s opinion, sexy. He wouldn’t mind hearing that man read the phone book. “You can’t just entertain yourselves, can you?”

 

Since the guy had addressed him, Castiel figured it would be okay to look at him, so he did. “I’m here for-” Castiel glanced at the clock again. “Twenty more minutes, I get bored easy. So sue me.”

 

The guy had his head back against his chair and his eyes were closed. At first, he offered no reply and Castiel began to wonder if he had fallen asleep or something… maybe he had kicked the bucket, but no, Castiel could see his chest moving. He rolled his eyes and stared at the clock, silently begging it to hurry up.

 

“What’s your name?”

 

Castiel looked over at the guy again. “What’s _your_ name?” he snapped back with more sass than he had intended.

 

“Dean. I’m Dean Winchester. What’s your name, Kid?”

 

Castiel paused and looked the man over one more time. He looked like a Dean. “I’m Castiel.”

 

“Castiel, huh?” Dean asked with a small smile. “Your parents religious nuts or something?”

 

“Or something,” he replied, honestly surprised that Dean even knew that Castiel was a Biblical inspired name.  He didn’t need to advertise his parents being religious nuts; his name did that enough for him as it was. “Are you in jail?” he dared to ask.

 

Dean smirked. “I’m in a hospital,” he replied quietly.

 

He blinked and stared at Dean for a moment. The snark and sass was returned right back to him, and Castiel had to admire that, even if it was annoying. “When you’re not in the hospital.”

 

Dean gestured at his outfit. “What do you think, Kid? It ain’t Halloween.”

 

“Castiel,” he corrected. “If you asked me my name, you could at least use it.”

 

Dean opened one eye and peered at him, a smile once again ghosting his lips. The smile made him more handsome than the stoic mask. “Castiel,” he corrected slowly, as if he were trying the name out to see how it fit in his mouth. “You’re too young to be in here.”

 

“Tell me about it,” Castiel replied darkly. “But it’s not like I knocked on leukemia’s door and said ‘Hey, wanna hitch a ride in me?’” Castiel paused and slumped further in his chair, “It chose me, like it chose you...it’s a sick cosmic joke.”

 

Dean’s eyes opened fully and his smile grew a hair, showing his teeth slightly. “Yeah, you got that right. It is a sick cosmic joke...it’s also a sick cosmic joke that I got eight months left and I find out I’ve got cancer. The universe decided I wasn’t done being punished. Ain’t that a plot twist?”

 

“What’d you do?” Castiel asked, feeling even more daring than before. For all he knew, this man could have been a child rapist, kidnapper, or axe murderer. Would the state even _let_ axe murderers get chemo in a hospital? Once he started thinking on it, he began to grow paranoid. What if this man _were_ a murderer? Why had he asked? It was stupid to ask-

 

“Robbed a convenience store,” Dean told him tiredly, as if he were sick of answering this question. Much like Castiel was sick of answering the questions he received about his cancer. “Brother and I were starving and my dad had a gun in the house. Usually I just five-fingered everything, but I figured if we had some cash we could actually eat decent for once.” Dean shrugged. “I chose the wrong night to pull a gun on somebody.”

 

Dean’s confession was oddly interesting. He wanted to know more about Dean; his life, his brother, why he had been starving, how long had he served… he had a million questions. But he also had a feeling that Dean wouldn’t want to delve into his personal life to someone he didn’t even know. He didn’t seem like the ‘talk it out’ kind of guy. “Oh,” he said finally, unsure of what else to even say.

 

“Word of advice,” Dean said, his eyes turning on him again. “Don’t rob a store when a cop is in the parking lot...actually, just don’t rob a store. Okay?”

 

Castiel nodded. “Well, I guess that ruins my after chemo plans,” he joked lamely, hoping that it would make Dean smile wider. He was pleased to find that it did. In fact, it made Dean laugh.

 

“Touche՛, Kid. Touche՛.”

 

☣☢☣☢

 

It was only some time after he had finished vomiting for the sixth time since arriving back home that Castiel realized the man had said his last name was _Winchester_. Winchester, as in _Mrs. Winchester_?  Castiel groaned and shut his eyes as more nausea gripped his stomach. Did Mrs. Winchester have a son? Did she have a son who was in jail? Maybe they weren’t even related… but how did one go about _asking_ one’s teacher if their son was in jail?

 

“You don’t,” Castiel muttered to himself in answer of his own question. “You don’t ask.”

 

“You say something, Cas?” Gabriel called through the closed bathroom door.

 

“No,” he answered back as loudly as he dared. Sometimes, just talking was enough to make him want to throw up, so he tried his best to keep from saying too much.

 

He wasn’t about to ask his teacher if she had a son, and if that son was in jail, _and_ if she knew that that same son had cancer. Newly diagnosed cancer from the way Dean had been talking. Dean had eight more months, but now his warden was something new, and in Castiel’s opinion, more terrifying than prison. His warden was now a disease that could very well shackle him to his grave. He was now to pay penance in a whole new way, and Castiel had to admit, it _wasn’t_ fair, especially if the starving story was true.

 

He wasn’t going to _ask_ , but he could probably _Google_ the answer. Maybe he could even find out more on the mysterious Dean Winchester, but first he needed to be able to lift his head without vomiting. That would probably be a while. Castiel sighed and heaved more into the toilet before reaching up weakly to flush. He watched the water swirl, which was a bad idea, he had to shut his eyes after watching the motion. God, did he hate cancer.

 

“Cas? You want some water?” Gabriel asked through the door gently. “You gotta stay hydrated...y’know...it’s bad for your already shitty health if you don’t.”

 

Castiel slowly moved his head to look at the door; it was too far away for him to open, or that was how it felt at least. His arms seemed to weigh one million pounds, and the door appeared to be _miles_ away from where he was sitting in front of the toilet. He shouldn’t have locked the door. Castiel tried to say Gabriel’s name but it only came out as a moan. He was going to faint, he realized even as he attempted to lift his arm up to reach for the door handle. He needed to unlock the door before he lost consciousness.

 

“Cas?” Gabriel called. “Cas, open the door!”

 

He moaned again, his body too tired and weak for him to even move; his heavy arm fell back and hit his side before he could lift it to the door. If he fainted now, he could asphyxiate on his own vomit and then die. He didn’t want to die from choking on his own vomit, what a shitty way to go.

 

“Cas! C’mon, open the door, Cas!” Gabriel was knocking and pounding on the door as if that were going to help. Maybe it would help keep him awake, he realized as he tried to move and crawl up to pop the lock. “Cas, please, you can do it. Open the door.”

 

There were spots appearing in his vision and it was making him even more lightheaded. All he wanted to do was sleep, or pass out, whichever would make this exhausted feeling pass. He could barely hear Gabriel anymore, and he felt so far away. Was he _dying_? Was this what death felt like? Panicked, Castiel launched himself at the door, despite the agony that caused his body, but he was able to scramble at the lock until he heard it click, and then he allowed himself to collapse.

 

☣☢☣☢

 

“Cas...hey-Castiel? Can you hear me, Buddy?” Gabriel was floating above him, and slowly Castiel returned to the reality of the bathroom, his eyes aching with how bright the room seemed. “Hey, hey there you are…” His brother laughed nervously, not that either of them found this situation _funny_.

 

“Gabe,” he muttered sleepily. At least he could talk now. “What happened?”

 

“You fainted...easy-easy-” Gabriel was slowly helping him sit up and then allowing him to lean back against the wall. The easiest of motions made him feel sick, and he was already shutting his eyes again. “I’m gonna call an ambulance-”

 

“No, Gabe,” Castiel whispered. “I don’t wanna go to the hospital…”

 

“Cas, this isn’t normal, okay? You can’t see yourself, but I can, and I’m calling for an ambulance.” Gabriel was standing up before Castiel could stop him, and soon he could hear his brother’s voice talking to someone on the phone.

 

Castiel sighed and allowed his eyes to shut firmly. They felt so heavy, as if they were made of lead. He couldn’t have stayed awake even if he had wanted t-

  


“Let me in there, that’s my _brother_ -Cas!”

 

There was something over his face, puffing air on him; it took him a moment to realize that he had an oxygen mask over his face, and there were doctors standing over him. A bright light was shining in his eyes, which made him flinch.

 

“He’s awake,” a woman said, her voice quipped and quick. He was back at the no-nonsense hospital. From the look of her scrubs, she had to be a nurse.

 

The doctor nodded. “Hi there,” she said. “Can you tell me your name? Where you are?”

 

Castiel blinked a few times and looked around, reaching to remove the mask from his face. “I’m Castiel,” he replied slowly. “I’m in the hospital-...I-I fainted.”

 

The doctor nodded again. “Good. Very good….you were out for quite awhile. Gave us all a pretty big scare, didn’t you?” She smiled in a rehearsed way that made Castiel’s stomach turn. “We believe you may have had a small seizure. Can you lift your arms up for me?”

 

Castiel attempted to raise his arms but they still felt heavy. “They feel heavy...but not as bad as it was earlier.”

 

“Good. That’s good...Sir, Sir I’m sorry but you can’t-”

 

Castiel blinked and realized that Gabriel had finally bullied his way into the room, which was already fairly full. “Gabriel,” he whispered.

 

“Hey, hey Cas. Jesus Christ, I’m his _brother_. You can’t just tell me I can’t see him!” Gabriel slid his hand into Castiel’s, giving his fingers a small squeeze. “You scared the shit out of me, Cas. You said he had a seizure?”

 

“We believe he may have, yes,” the doctor said slowly, clearly unhappy that Gabriel was in the room. “I’m Dr. Harvelle, and I apologize Mr. Novak, but I’m going to have to ask you to wait outside.”

 

“He’s a minor-” Gabriel immediately protested, but Castiel squeezed his hand lightly and gave him a weak thumbs up. His brother sighed, and then relinquished his hold on Castiel’s hand, turning to walk out and pace outside of the room.

 

“Sorry,” Castiel whispered. “He worries easy.”

 

“I understand,” Dr. Harvelle said with a smile. She seemed like a kind woman, with brown hair and kind eyes. He liked her. “How are you feeling right now? Tired? Are you in pain? Short of breath?”

 

“I feel a little tired, but mostly I feel okay,” he answered, even as he attempted to sit up more.

 

“Oh, here-” Dr. Harvelle reached over and assisted him in sitting up, fixing his pillows so he could. “How’s that?”

 

He nodded. “Thank you….I feel okay. I felt awful before, but I don’t now.”

 

“That’s good. Hopefully, this was just a fluke, and it will never happen again. We’re going to keep you overnight for monitoring purposes. Okay? Nurse Milton will take your blood to run for some tests, and we may do a CT scan just to be safe. Does that sound alright to you?”

 

Castiel watched as a pretty red headed woman walked over and gently took his arm to tie a band around, swabbing him with alcohol. “Um, yeah,” he said, since apparently he had no choice anyway. “Can my brother come back in here now?”

 

“Yes, I’ll go get him. If you need anything, just press the call button-”

 

He nodded and said, “Yeah, I know...I know the drill. Thanks.”

 

“You’re welcome, Castiel.” Dr. Harvelle stepped out of his room to tell Gabriel that he could return before walking down the hall.

 

“I’m sorry if this hurts,” Nurse Milton apologize, her voice soft and kind. Maybe the people at the no-nonsense hospital weren’t so bad after all. She was gentle and easy as she slid the needle beneath his skin and into a big fat vein.

 

“It doesn’t hurt,” he assured her as Gabriel walked back into the room. “You’re really good at that, actually. It’s nice.”

 

“Oh, well, I’m sure you get poked all the time...I always try to be a bit more gentle with the people I know get it all the time,” she said with a smile. “Just a couple of tubes, all I need, then we’ll leave you alone for a bit, okay?”

 

Castiel nodded. “Thanks.”

 

“I’m Anna, by the way. You can call me Anna.”

 

“Hi, Anna.”

 

The scrape of a heavy chair made Castiel startle slightly, which almost dislodged the needle. Gabriel blushed and apologized, but Anna told him that it was alright, she was done. Soon, he was bandaged, and then they were alone. Gabriel looked so tired, probably about as tired as he had felt earlier. In fact, his brother looked as if _he_ needed to be in a hospital bed more than him.

 

“Are you okay Gabe?” he asked.

 

“Hm? Yeah. I’m fine...I’m fine. Don’t worry about me, alright?” Gabriel put on a smile, but Castiel saw right through it. His brother was tired, and probably fed up with Castiel being sick. He wasn’t _fine_ , that was for sure. “You just worried me, Cas. That’s all. I’m glad you’re okay.”

 

“But you don’t seem like you’re okay,” he said, not able to keep his own worry from his voice.

 

“Yeah, well, I’m tired Cas. I’ve been here for a while and I’m just tired, that’s all. Still haven’t found a job, you break your wrist, then you faint, and maybe have a seizure? I can’t help but worry about you, Kiddo. I’m sorry.”

 

Castiel dropped his eyes back down to the cast on his arm. Maybe _that_ was why his arm felt so tired and heavy. With all of this drama, he had forgotten that he had even broken his wrist. It seemed like forever ago that that had happened; like he had been living a whole different life, as a different person. The feeling of being _normal_ was soon gone, and Castiel sighed to himself. Of course, he couldn’t have a lasting normalcy. Oh no, he had to be defined by his cancer. Again. When he looked over at Gabriel, he saw that his brother’s head was lolling around his chest, and he was breathing deeply. He was asleep.

 

Castiel almost paged a nurse to have someone bring him a blanket, but he didn’t want to risk waking Gabe up, so Castiel shut his own eyes to wait. He hadn’t been able to Google Mrs. Winchester or her maybe-son Dean Winchester, he realized sadly. He was going to have to wait until they let him go. Googling one’s teacher was probably creepy, but he was honestly curious. Did his seemingly normal English teacher have an incarcerated son? He had to know.

 

Castiel took a deep breath and slowly let it out. Living the life of a sick person was growing tiresome, even to him, and he was used to being sick. He wanted to _live_ , and not worry about collapsing, fainting, or throwing up. He wanted to stop thinking that Death was waiting for him on the other side of every door he opened. Sometimes, shutting his eyes never felt so easy.

 

 


	5. Khoshekh

The Google search of one _Mary Winchester_ did not prove to be very fruitful, which he supposed made sense. She was a teacher after all, she could not have her personal business airing all over the internet… just in case of curious students like himself. However, the search of one _Dean Winchester_ had proved the opposite; he had found enough to whet his appetite on the matter. Dean’s information was more or less public record because of his criminal status. He  had been arrested for armed robbery, like he said. He was also telling the truth about the brother: Sam Winchester, age 28, one year older than Gabriel.

 

However, there was no explanation as to _why_ Dean had robbed a store that night in 2002. That was a question that he would have to save for a later date, he supposed. Then again, maybe he would never see Dean again in person. Castiel frowned and stared at his laptop screen for what felt like forever before he finally made a decision. How often did prisoners receive letters anyway? Probably not very often. Castiel bit his lip and picked up his cell phone, deciding to call the prison and ask. He had a feeling he would be on hold, or he would go through a million transfers before finding the right person to ask such questions. Were there guidelines to being a prisoner’s pen pal? Probably. He was going to have to research this thoroughly.

 

As he figured, he was put on hold, so Castiel began to try and find any information about writing to inmates online. There had to be guidelines _somewhere_. He was sure the letters would be read before given to Dean, so any sense of privacy did not exist, but he would still write to Dean anyway. He was probably lonely in prison, and Castiel was fairly certain that he didn’t receive that much mail. Castiel listened to some weird muzak on the other line for what felt like forever, before a bored woman’s voice finally asked him how she could assist him.

 

“Hello, I was wondering about writing letters to an inmate you have...Dean Winchester, I don’t know his inmate number, I’m sorry-” Castiel bit his lip and hoped that she wouldn’t brush him off without this information.

 

“Just a moment.”

 

He opened his mouth to thank her, but the muzak returned, so he could only groan. Bashing his head into his desk was probably not good for health reasons, so Castiel refrained for the moment. Even though he would have loved to hit his head into the desk. At least one. Maybe twice.

 

“Name, please?”

 

Castiel jumped. “Um, Castiel Novak.”

 

“And you are wishing to write to Dean Winchester, number 378041?”

 

“Um, yes. Dean Winchester,” Castiel repeated again. Saying it out loud made him feel nervous and he had no idea why. Writing to Dean, an _inmate_ , almost felt as illegal as the crime Dean had committed to land him in jail. The feeling was thrilling, much better than his everyday life.

 

“If you give me your email address we can have the guidelines, rules, and other regulations sent to you before you submit any mail to us. The format that the letter must be in will be included in the email. All mail is read and regulated by our staff, and can only be delivered through the U.S. Postal Service. Do you understand these rules?” she asked him, still sounding bored, as if she were reading from a script.

 

“Yes, ma’am,” he agreed immediately. “My email address is C-A-S-T-I-E-L N-O-V-A-K. At gmail…” Castiel worried his bottom lip with his teeth, his stomach doing flips and flops as she heard her typing away on a computer.

 

“You should receive an email in about five to ten minutes, Mr. Novak. Have a good day.”

 

“Yes-you too-” Castiel hung up and stared at his email so hard that it made his eyes tear up. Would Gabriel approve of him writing to an inmate? Probably not, but he was going to do it anyway. If he never saw Dean again, this would be his only chance of communicating with him, and there was something about Dean that made him want to talk to the man. Even if at first he had been apprehensive, he wanted to now. The idea was terrifying and liberating all at once; he could write to a man who probably had limited human contact, except for the other inmates he saw day to day.

 

In a way, prison seemed to be like school; forced to be in rooms with people that you may or may not like, trying to follow all of the rules and regulations, no matter how miniscule. If you fuck up, punishment followed, and Castiel had a feeling punishments like detention were somewhat similar to solitary or however inmates were punished. The food was probably just as bad too. Castiel smiled to himself; he would have to bring up the similarities to Dean, as he would probably find it as amusing as Castiel did.

 

“Castiel!” Gabriel called up the stairs.

 

Castiel bit his lip and stared at this email harder, maybe if he wished _really_ hard he would get the email before he had to go, but his brother called him again. If he waited anymore, he was going to get in trouble. Castiel sighed and shut his laptop before getting up and leaving, grabbing his sweater along the way. He would have to write to Dean later.

 

“There you are, c’mon, we have to go,” Gabriel said, his tone wavering on impatient.

 

“Sorry,” he apologized quietly, as he slid out the front door.

 

“What took you?”

 

“I was waiting on an email, I’ll just read it later,” he replied dismissively. “For something on Amazon.” Lying to Gabriel was really easy sometimes; then again, Castiel did have an Amazon addiction that he really did need to cut back on. It was just so easy to buy things these days that Castiel had fallen in love with online shopping; he liked it more than regular shopping. He didn’t have to deal with people if he shopped online.  

 

“No more spending on Amazon stuff for you this month, Castiel. I already told you.” Gabriel scolded him often about shopping online, but it never stuck. They both knew this, but Gabriel always tried anyway, because maybe _this_ time would be the last. It never was the last.

 

“Okay, Gabriel,” he replied after they were both in the car and buckled in. They had to go to the grocery store, but Castiel was still not sure why _he_ had to go too. Considering he had just collapsed a few days ago, and had just been released from the hospital recently. He was fine of course, but Castiel still felt odd going out after such a spell. But Gabriel insisted that they go out tonight, even though he couldn’t quite place _why_ his brother was so pushy about tonight. It was just the grocery store after all.

 

However, they passed the usual store and kept going, so Castiel frowned as he watched out the window. “I thought we were going to the store?” he asked. “Gabe? Where are we going?”

 

Gabriel kept on staring out the windshield and he didn’t reply. The silence was making Castiel feel cold and nervous; now was about the time in the horror movie where the kidnapped was taken and killed in the backwoods somewhere. And with the way Gabe had been acting lately, Castiel almost wanted to throw open his door and jump out, but that would have been an overreaction. Gabriel would never _hurt_ him; his brother had given up his entire life _for_ him. Why would his brother harm him now? He was just being paranoid. Overly paranoid.

 

But then they turned onto a back road and Castiel felt his paranoia scream loud in his mind. Where were they going? _Why_ were they going? Castiel’s breathing grew uneven and a bout of nausea gripped his stomach so hard that he began to sweat and panic. “Gabe, I need air-” he gasped. “Gabriel-”

 

The window began to roll down until he could hang his head out into the air, which was a relief, but Gabriel still wasn’t talking to him. This whole drive was becoming extremely unnerving. What about Sunshine? Was Gabriel going to get rid of Sunshine when he was gone? He was still being overly paranoid, which happened more often than not after he had his chemo, which was stupid. His doctor told him it was normal, that his anxiety could go up, and that would just make him feel worse. But Gabriel wouldn’t _hurt_ him…. but maybe they were going to take Castiel away. Perhaps Gabriel was just tired of taking care of him now.

 

He wouldn’t _blame_ Gabriel for being too tired to care for him. His brother _had_ been commenting lately on how tired he felt. Maybe they were going to a place where Gabriel would drop him off like an abandoned cat or dog. A place where the would take care of him, and he would have round the clock care. But the wasn’t that sick was he? He wasn’t so sick that he had to have round the clock care. Castiel shook his head; he had to stop feeling upset. This was stupid. He was being ridiculous.

 

“Gabe? I know i make you mad sometimes, but I don’t wanna go, please…” he managed to say pathetically.

 

This made Gabriel frown and look over at him. “What?”

 

“I’m sorry if-if I upset you-please-I’m sorry-” Even Castiel knew he was being ridiculous, but he couldn’t shake the bad feeling away. He couldn’t stop picturing his end being from Gabriel finally snapping.

 

“Cas, where do you think we’re going?” Gabriel asked slowly.

 

“You’re gonna take me to a place where they can take care of me all the time, because I’m a pain to take care of,” he wailed. It was all so irrational as it fell out of his mouth, but he couldn’t stop. It was like a cork had come loose from a bottle, and all of the liquid was rushing out in a slow gush that was not being stopped by anyone. Even if all one had to do was stick the cork right back into the bottle again.

 

Then, his brother did something that Castiel didn’t expect.

 

He laughed.

 

He laughed so hard that he had to pull over because he had tears in his eyes and stitches in his side. Either Gabriel had finally snapped, or Castiel really was just that funny. “You think I’m taking you to _abandon_ you? Cas, you’ve been watchin’ too many soap operas, you know that? I gotta cut back on your TV time.”

“You said we were going to the store, but we’re not _at_ the store...and then you pulled off on some weird road and I didn’t know where you were going, and-” Gabriel cut him off by putting his fingers to his lips with a smile.

 

“Cas-I was _trying_ to surprise you, but fine, I’ll just ruin it if you’re that upset.”

 

Castiel couldn’t help but sniff a little. “What?” he squeaked.

 

“I’m taking you to Mrs. Miller’s house, her cat had kittens.”

 

Castiel stared for a moment. Mrs. Miller was the woman they had adopted Sunshine from. “Mrs. Miller’s?”

 

“Yeah. you’ve been bugging me for a kitten for ages, so I finally broke down after she gave me a phone call the other day about them. I was trying to keep it a surprise. I was just going to pick one up myself and bring it home, but I figured I’d bring you with so you could pick it out. They’re old enough now that they’re litter boxed trained, weaned off their mother’s milk, and they’re all shot, dewormed...all of that jazz. They’re even all fixed.” Gabriel looked proud of himself, and Castiel had to admit, this was a great surprise.

 

“Oh...I’m sorry-I’m being stupid,” Castiel said quietly, his voice full of unshed tears. He tried to wipe his eyes before they fell, but there were too many, and he was leaking. “I’m sorry, I _do_ watch too many soap operas.” He sounded so broken, as if Gabriel had just told him that Sunshine had died. He felt pathetic.

 

Gabriel smiled softly and reached out to pull him close, giving him a tight hug while he cried into his brother’s shoulder. “It’s okay little brother,” Gabriel whispered in his ear. “It’s okay.”

 

“I just feel really stupid,” he whimpered, still sounding pathetic and broken. Clearly, he didn’t cry enough.

 

Gabriel chuckled, the sound rumbling in his chest. “It’s okay. To be fair, I was acting kinda stone faced, but I was trying not to burst out the surprise, y’know? I fail at keeping secrets.”

 

Castiel sniffed again. “So a kitten, huh?” he asked, as he sat back and wiped his face on the back of his sleeve.

 

“Yep. Just for you. You want one or not?”

 

“I do,” he whispered. “Thanks.”

 

Gabriel nodded and pulled back onto the road again. “Alright then. Let’s go get you a kitten.”

 

☣☢☣☢

 

“What’s its name?” Ruby asked him through Skype as Castiel held the cat up for her to see.

 

“Khoshekh...like from _Welcome to Night Vale_? Have you ever listened to it?” he asked, before settling the black kitten in his lap. Khoshekh had taken a shine to him immediately, and even though Castiel had been playing with his orange brother, he had ended up taking the black one home. They were already best friends, and even Sunshine liked him. It was fate.

 

“No, what is that?” Ruby asked before popping a chip into his mouth.

 

“It’s a podcast about this weird place called Night Vale. It’s really impossible to explain, you just have to listen to it.”

 

“Huh, sounds like X Files or something.”

 

“Yeah, sorta.” Castiel nodded and gentle tickled Khoshekh’s belly, until the kitten wriggled free and ran away to hide beneath his bed. “Oops.”

 

Ruby laughed, but then she was cut off when he heard another phone call coming in. He turned his eyes back on the screen and saw with slight dread that Michael was trying to call him. “Ruby I gotta go, my brother is calling me on here.”

 

“Oh okay...call me back later?” she asked. “Maybe I’ll listen to some Night Vale whilst you hold back groans of annoyance over your oldest sibling.”

 

“Yeah, you do that.” Castiel waved and then hung up, before slowly and begrudgingly accepting Michael’s call. The video took a moment to catch up but soon Castiel was looking into the eyes of his oldest brother, and it was such a weird experience that he almost clicked _end call_ immediately.

 

“Castiel,” Michael greeted with a small smile. “It’s good to see you. Gabriel told me what happened to you, I’m glad to see you upright...or at least awake.”

 

“Yeah...um-just a sec-” Castiel stood and walked over to his bed to kneel and peer under the bed skirt. “Khoshekh, _come here_ ,” he hissed at the kitten, who only proceeded to yawn at him and stay put in his spot. “Fine, be a jerk.”

 

“Cas?” came Michael’s voice. “Who are you talking to?”

 

Castiel rolled his eyes. _Myself_ , he wanted to quip back, but he held his tongue and walked back over to his computer chair to sit down. “I got a new kitten. His name is Khoshekh.”

 

“Khoshekh? What kind of name is that?” Michael asked, clearly confused and in disbelief. His tone conveyed that Khoshekh was a stupid name, and no one should have named their cat such a name. On the behalf of Cecil and himself, Castiel felt offended.

 

“It’s from _Welcome to Night Vale_. The best podcast _ever_.” Which explained nothing, but maybe Michael would get that sneer off of his face if he explained it was from something he took enjoyment out of. He didn’t find enjoyment in many things, so perhaps his brother would back off.

 

“Hm...well then…..” Michael nodded and clapped his hands together. “How have you been?”

 

“You mean, besides the cancer growing inside me like my diseased twin?” he asked snarkily, not able to help himself.

 

Michael looked a bit miffed at his comment, but he kept his temper. “Yes, Castiel, besides your cancer, how are you?”

 

“I don’t know. I’m okay, I guess.” He wanted to get off of this call so he could start writing Dean’s letter. He had read the email when he had gotten home, and had carefully examined every regulation. There were a lot, but it made sense to him. Since he had met Dean once, he figured he didn’t need to have some introductory paragraph about who he was, which would hopefully not penalize him in the long run.

 

“That’s it? Nothing exciting happening in your life?” Michael continued. Clearly, his brother was fishing for something, Castiel just wasn’t sure what it was yet.

 

“Nope.”

 

“No new friends?”

 

 _Bingo_. “I mean, I have a friend named Ruby,” he admitted slowly. Why did Michael suddenly care about his life? When had his brother started having a heart three sizes too big? “She’s nice.”

 

“That’s good,” Michael said slowly, but then an awkward silence floated over them both, and Castiel drew his eyes away from the computer to stare at the lined paper he had pulled out to write Dean’s letter on. “You want to go, don’t you?”

 

He glanced up at Michael again. “Yeah, I have to do some school stuff,” he lied. “Sorry.”

 

“It’s alright...It’s nice seeing you, Cas.”

 

“Yeah, you too.” Castiel replied quickly, silently begging Michael to just end the call already. He would call Ruby back when he was done writing.

 

“Goodbye Castiel.”

 

“Bye.” Once the goodbyes were said, Castiel hit the button to end the call and relaxed back into his chair, relieved. Perhaps it hadn’t been fair to brush Michael off, but that was what Michael had done to him his entire life. Maybe now, with a taste of his own medicine, his brother would be a nicer person who actually called and visited. Shaking his head at the thought, which was probably completely asinine, Castiel shut his laptop and pulled the paper in front of him. It was time to write a letter to Dean, and he would make it a good one.

 

☣☢☣☢

 

 

 

Castiel smiled at his handiwork before carefully folding the letter into three sections to be stuffed gently into the envelope he had stolen from the “office” that they never used. He had also taken a book of stamps to put on the envelope as well. He would hide them in his desk, until he felt confident enough to bring the top up to Gabriel. Surely, his brother wouldn’t become _angry_ with him for wanting to write a letter for a man who could use something to brighten his day. Criminal or not. He glanced over at Khoshekh, who was sitting on top of his shut laptop, purring.

 

“You think it looks good?” he asked the cat.

 

Khoshekh didn’t say much in reply but the little blink he gave him, made Castiel feel as if he approved.

 

“Me too.” 


	6. A Little Bit of Normalcy

“Whatcha got there Winchester?” Benny asked him as he slowly sank down at their breakfast table.

 

Dean stared at the letter sealed in a plain white envelope. On the outside it was addressed to him, and the return address was from Castiel Novak, who had to be that kid at the hospital. How many Castiels could there be in the world anyway? He had yet to open the letter, but instead he tapped it on the table a few times, still trying to make himself believe that this was real. He really _had_ received mail this morning, and while it was not from his mother, like he had always wished, it was still real, physical mail. Having a letter, written out to _him_ made him feel normal.

 

He glanced up at Benny and smiled. “A little bit of normal in this place,” he replied, before opening the letter slowly and carefully. He did not want to just tear into the precious cargo, because what if he ripped the actual letter? He couldn’t have _that_.

 

“You got yourself a pen pal?” Benny asked with a smirk. “Cute, Winchester.”

 

“Shut it, Lafitte,” he replied, but they both knew he only said it out of love.

 

Benny took a few bites of his breakfast, which was some sort of sausage gravy. “Who’s it from?”

 

“Castiel,” Dean whispered.

 

“Casti-who?”

 

“The kid at the hospital. I told you about him…” The paper slowly unfolded in his hands, and while the letter was brief, he could not stop smiling his entire way through reading it. He was going to be sure to write Castiel back immediately. Maybe the kid would keep up and they could send correspondence often through his last eight months. There was a small bit of hope that he would see Castiel in person again, but he also was hoping he wouldn’t. If he did, that meant the kid was still sick, and no one that young deserved to be sick.

 

Not that anyone deserved to be sick; he wouldn’t have wished cancer on anyone. Living, dead, or otherwise. But, young kids especially did not deserve to have cancer. _That_ was an injustice that made Dean want to knock cancer out with his fists. Bare knuckled and all.

 

“What he write to you for?” Benny questioned, sounding surprised, as if a kid writing to him was completely out of the question.

 

He glanced up at his friend and glared slightly. “What? I can’t have someone write to me?”

 

“I didn’t mean it that way, I just didn’t think you guys had that long of a conversation.”

 

"I'm not sayin' we had a long conversation," Dean shrugged, folding the letter back up and returning it to its envelope. "We didn't. But, I don't know, he said in the letter that he wanted to keep talking to me. He didn't think he'd ever see me again." The thought that this kid, who was a stranger to him, _wanted_ to keep talking to him, made him unbelieeably happy. “God, I haven’t had someone write to me… ever.”

 

Benny nodded in understanding. Having a pen pal could really make or break a prisoner who was in it for the long haul. Ten years, and this was his first letter. Castiel had to be an angel sent down from Heaven, he was damn sure. Usually, the food was awful, but today Dean felt as if it tasted a bit better, and then sun shined a tad brighter through the barred windows.

 

☣ ☢ ☣ ☢

 

He checked the spelling of Castiel’s name over and over, making sure it was right before beginning to dive into the meat of the letter. He wasn’t sure when Castiel had written the letter, but Dean decided to date his;  just so the kid would vaguely know when he received it. Now that he had sat down to write however, Dean realized that he wasn’t sure _what_ to write. Should he ask Castiel questions? Or just tell him about his day? He could at least reassure the kid that he was by no means _bothering_ him. In fact, he had been overjoyed to receive the letter.

 

He could also tell the kid that giving out personal information was not encouraged, but he could ask his CO about receiving Castiel’s number so he could call him, or vice versa. That would be an easy enough start, he supposed. Dean took a deep breath and slowly began to put pencil to paper.

 

 

 Dean paused to flip his piece of paper over so he could continue writing on the back. Was it awkward that he was clearly putting more effort into this than Castiel had? Dean blinked and shook his head; that wasn’t a fair assumption. _Clearly_ , Castiel had put quite a bit of effort into this whole situation. He had not been _forced_ to write him after all. He was doing it because he wanted to, and that made him an angel, a real bona fide angel in Dean’s mind. He smiled a bit before continuing onward.

 

 

His handwriting seemed atrocious compared to Castiel’s, but he supposed that could not be helped; it wasn’t as if he had many chances to write while in jail. All he had to do now was have it approved and sent to the kid’s address. The only thing he could do afterwards, would be to hope that Castiel did not change his mind. He needed this bit of normalcy in his life. Feeling normal had never come easy to him, not when he was a free man, and not now. Not that he had ever _truly_ been a free man, not even when he had been a child. He had always been a prisoner to his father’s commands, and his father’s orders. He and Sammy both. The thought of Sam brought him sadness, even as the letter in his hands brought him happiness. He had gone to jail for Sam, and even though Sam was upset with him for it, he knew that his brother appreciated what he had tried to do.

 

Despite all of his failures and shortcomings, Sammy had always been proud of him, even when his own father had not been. John Winchester had not been a _father_ to him in years; he had abandoned his post as father after his mother had left them. Perhaps, even before then, Dean had never known his father to be a good man. Not once in his entire life; John had always been the man to tell him to stand up straight, to push his shoulders back, and to go down to the corner store and buy Sam something to eat. Then his old man would shove some wadded up cash into his hand and shove him out the door of the motel or trailer they were living in at that time.

 

Dean shuddered and shook his head. Remembering the childhood he had never had made him feel disgustingly sorry for himself. Kids had it worse than him, he was sure. There was no reason to dwell on the past or pity himself. Not when kids as young as Castiel, and younger, had cancer and other terminal diseases that would have them never seeing their next birthdays. Other people had it worse than he did, and as his father had always taught him, he did not deserve any pity parties. Things could always be worse. Dean folded up his letter, the same way Castiel had, and then stood to go and find his CO. Hopefully, he could get the letter sent out by tomorrow morning.

 

☣ ☢ ☣ ☢

 

“When do you _ever_ skip class if it’s not for doctor appointments?” Ruby asked him point blank.

 

“I don’t,” Castiel replied. He _couldn’t_ afford to miss class, not with all of the class he missed half of the time anyway.

 

“Exactly. So, do something _normal_ for once, and play hookie with me. C’mon, when you get _permission_ from your older brother, you _know_ it’s okay. Please, Cas? Let’s do it. I’ll drive us to the shopping district, and we can blow some cash on stupid shit, like all teenagers are supposed to do.” Ruby smiled hugely at him as they stood in his driveway. Gabriel had apparently already okay’d this outing, since Ruby had already asked, but Castiel still felt odd skipping class for no real reason.

 

Cutting class was normal? What did normal even _mean_? He wasn’t even sure if he knew how to be normal. Sure, ever since Ruby had come along, he had _felt_ more normal than before, but he knew that he’d never truly be the same as other kids his age. “How are you going to drive us with your arm in a sling?” he pointed out.

 

Ruby pointed back at the car, where he aunt was waiting on them. “Okay, so my _aunt_ is going to drive us. Sheesh, Cas, you get so worked up over nothing. Mountains out of molehills, my friend.”

 

Castiel sighed and glanced back at Gabriel, who only gave him a smile and a thumbs up, so he sagged his shoulders a bit, and slowly walked his backpack back over to where his brother stood on the porch. “I thought you didn’t like Ruby,” he whispered.

 

Gabriel shrugged slightly. “I don’t _hate_ her,” he pointed out, before exchanging Castiel’s backpack for cash. “You better spend all of that on crap you don’t need.”

 

He could only roll his eyes and turn to go back over to Ruby who was now by her aunt’s SUV. She got his door for him, and then she was sliding into the passenger’s side. Castiel shut the door, and blessed the heat in the car; he was always cold, but with fall really setting in, he starting to feel the chill more than others. He weighed about one hundred and ten pounds soaking wet, since his chemo never allowed him to keep much weight on. The other boys loved to make fun of him for it, but then they at times would stop themselves when he showed his illness outwardly. Like a literal bloody reminder.

 

The mocking would stop for a few days, but only a few days. It didn't take long for him to return to being 'chicken legs'...or ‘stretch’ or whatever other term they felt was appropriate. Castiel huddled in his hoodie in the backseat, and only then did he realize that he was being addressed. His face flushed beet red when he realized that he had not been paying attention whatsoever. Talking to strangers was not one of his strong points.

 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you…” he muttered apologetically.

 

Ruby’s aunt smiled. “It’s alright, Castiel. I was just asking if you were warm enough.”

 

“Oh-yes-I’m fine-” he lied quickly. Making other people crank up their heat was not friendly in his opinion; he was not going to let Ruby and her aunt sweat it out while he shivered and prayed for more body fat. Perhaps that was what he would ask for this year for Christmas. Dear Santa, more body fat _please_. xoxoxo - _Castiel._ That would be perfect. Too bad he would receive no such gift beneath the tree this year. He _loved_ sweaters but his drawers were starting to get  little full. He knew Gabriel meant well, but it was getting to be time for a heart to-heart-about the sweater thing.

 

Not that he would ever turn down a Christmas gift, no matter if he liked it or not. There was only so much time to appreciate anything that someone bought you, and Castiel knew this more than anyone. So every gift was appreciated, no matter how awful it was, or if he even used it ever again. Castiel turned his eyes to watch the freeway go passed the SUV, watching as sign after sign was left behind in their wake. As they entered the heart of the city, Castiel began to wonder why Gabriel was alright with this. Boston wasn’t necessarily dangerous, he just wasn’t  normally allowed in the city without him. What if he needed some meds? What if he needed medical assistance? What if, what if, what if.

 

Castiel’s life was a series of just-in-case  and what-ifs. As usual. But today, he was going to live his life as a regular boy his age, one who did not have cancer, and did not have to go see a doctor or an emergency room several times a month. One who did not take more pills than an old person, and one who did not have to be pumped full of toxins to clean out his blood. This was a whole new concept that he had yet to truly grasp, and perhaps that was why Ruby was so insistent on helping him fully understand. She figured he deserved a little bit of normalcy in his life, and even though he couldn’t quite see it, or even understand it at times, he appreciated her efforts nonetheless.

 

They were pulling up to one of the larger malls, that was also aligned with other shops, and areas to visit and explore. Ruby leaned across her seat and pressed a kiss to her aunt’s cheek before the two of them exited her car. “I’ll pick you up here at two-thirty,” her aunt said. “Unless you want to come back before then, alright?”

 

“Thanks!” Ruby smiled, waved, and then she took his wrist and was pulling him off towards the food court’s outside entrance. The stores probably weren’t even open yet, he wanted to point out, but he kept his opinions to himself as they slid inside to the warmth. He wasn’t going to pass up on staying warm inside. “God, you’re shivering, are you okay?”

 

“I’m always cold,” he explained lamely. “I can’t help it.”

 

Ruby shook her head and stared at him as if he were some type of amazing lab experiment. “Honestly, how do you even live on the East Coast when you’re always cold? Winter must _suck_ for you.”

 

“You could say that,” he replied slowly. It was true, winters did suck, but he would have rather have been cold that steaming hot. He didn’t like to sweat; it was not a fun body experience. He knew that sweat was _good_ for the body, keeping you cool and hydrated when hot, but it was still gross.

 

“C’mon. Where do you want to go first?” she asked.

 

“Are the stores even open yet?” he couldn’t stop himself from asking this time. It was only 8:30 in the morning, the stores probably didn’t start opening until around 9. Then again, he didn’t get out much, so maybe she knew more about the mall than he did.

 

“No, but we can pick one out and wait for it to open.. or we can sit in here and wait. C’mon, let’s sit at a table.” Ruby took his hand again and began to pull him along until she found a table in some sunlight. He assumed she picked this table in particular for him, so he could sit in the sun and stay warm. Sometimes, her kindness astounded him.

 

“Thanks,” he said quietly as they sat down.

 

“Hey, you’re always cold, I figure I could at least sit you down at a table that would be warmer than the others,” she replied with a smile. “So, how does it feel being a normal kid who skips school?”

 

Castiel shrugged. In all honesty he did not feel any different than usual. He was still the kid who went to more doctors than anyone else he knew; he was still the kid with cancer. But, sitting with Ruby in a mall at some ridiculously early hour did make him feel different. Actually, he felt stupid, that was how he really felt. Who came to the mall this early? Certainly not another teenager. Other teenagers would have been asleep right now, rather than sitting at a food court waiting for stores to open. They would have come to mall at a later, more decent hour if they were going to cut class.

 

“I feel kind of dumb,” he admitted out loud, which made her tilt her head in confusion. “I mean, shouldn’t we be _sleeping_ in or something? I mean, we cut class, so shouldn’t we be taking advantage of that and staying in bed?”

 

Once he said the words out loud, the realization of what they were really doing flitted across Ruby’s face and slowly she began to smile. The smile turned into a giggle, and then soon her giggle turned into a full laugh. Castiel found laughter to be contagious, so he too was soon laughing so hard that his eyes filled with tears, and his ribs hurt. Their laughter echoed around the mostly empty room, but a few security guards looked over at them as if they were insane. Perhaps they were, perhaps they had completely lost their minds, but Castiel didn’t care. He had always dreamed of the day he would spend moments with a friend, laughing, sharing secrets, and having fun together.

 

That day had finally come, and yes, perhaps Ruby was a tad unorthodox, and not the person that he could have ever truly seen himself being friends with, he was _glad_ to call her friend. Once their tears were wiped away, and they were both able to breathe again, Ruby smiled at him, a real genuine smile that he hardly ever saw these days. Most people smiled at him at the hospital, but those were usually rehearsed, secretly sad smiles because one was supposed to smile at the sick kid, to make his day a bit brighter, right? Castiel hated those fake smiles, just as much as the next person did. He was not special just because he was dying; he wanted genuine, real smiles, like the one Ruby had on her face right now.

 

“What?” he asked.

 

“You’re right. I’ve realized my mistake, and did not think this one through,” she admitted with a shake of her head. “We _should_ be sleeping in until noon and _then_ coming to the mall, but alas, I am a fool and here we are right now. Sorry.”

 

Castiel shrugged and returned her smile. “It’s okay,” he replied, which was true. “I spend a lot of my time sleeping, so it doesn’t bother me.”

 

“The chemo?” she asked. Her tone was one of concern, but also curiosity. He was used to this tone.

 

He nodded, “Yeah, after I’m down throwing up my stomach I usually sleep. I sleep a _lot_. The doctor said it’s normal, and I shouldn’t be worried, but I’m always tired, honestly. There are days when I feel as if I could crawl beneath my blankets and not get up for the next ten years.”

 

Ruby gave him a sympathetic face, and he could tell that she was starting to feel sorry for him. He was going to have to tell her that he didn’t want her pity because he got enough of that from everyone else. “That sucks, bro. I mean, I get like that too but that’s because I drink too much coffee and stay up until three in the morning every night on Tumblr.”

 

Castiel smirked in understanding; Tumblr was a serious addiction he had too. “I understand that,” he told her. “I’m on there all the time too-”

 

“ _You_ have a Tumblr? No way, add me-” Ruby quickly wrangled her phone from her purse to log onto the mobile app he assumed. “What’s your username?”

 

“Um, ravennclaw with two n’s.”

 

“Who did you murder for that URL?” she asked him without looking up, her fingers typing away at her phone’s keyboard. “Is your House Ravenclaw? Or do you just like Ravenclaw, a lot?”

 

“You mean on Pottermore?” he asked, when she nodded he continued, “Yeah. I almost got Hufflepuff, but I guess they figured I was a tad bit more Ravenclaw than Hufflepuff.”

 

“You’re a Ravenpuff,” she replied with a smile. “I’m in Slytherin. I’m a Slytherclaw. Sweet, I followed you. I love meeting Tumblr people in real life, it’s like meeting a dog that can do a handstand while playing the ukelele.”

 

Castiel shook his head a bit and turned his eyes to the clock on the wall.

 

8:55.

 

“I suppose we can start walking,” he told her, his eyes still on the clock.

 

Ruby turned to look and then they were standing so they could check out a map. “Where do you like to shop? You seem like an H&M kinda guy.”

 

“I don’t get out often,” he admitted. His cheeks turned red in embarrassment. Hardly ever did he get to go shopping, and he was not even sure where most of his clothing came from since he tended to shop online for everything. “I have an Amazon addiction.”

 

“Psshhh,” Ruby hissed, waving her hand in dismissal. “We’ll go to H&M. You’ll love it. They have nice stuff. Totally your hipster-esque style you’ve got going.”

 

Castiel glanced down at his outfit of choice, not even remembering what he had thrown on this morning. Was he a hipster? What did that even mean?  He could see how his “fashionably” ripped skinny jeans, black converses, and overly large gray sweater made him look like a hipster, but Castiel didn’t really see it. He always pegged himself for looking goofy, since he liked to huddle in shirts, sweaters, and cardigans that were too big for him.

 

“But we need to get you something that actually fits, because seriously, you kinda look like a potato. Just a little.” She winked and held up her fingers a smidge apart to indicate that he only _slightly_ resembled a potato. “But you’re a cute potato.”

 

“Oh, you’ve wounded me,” he snapped dryly, which made her laugh. Castiel allowed Ruby to slide her arm into his, and then they were walking off towards this store that she kept raving about. He tried to listen to her, but sometimes Ruby spoke very quickly, and very enthusiastically, on top of being snarky, and sarcastic with quick wit. She was hard to keep up with at times. He could see now why she was in Slytherin.

 

“It’s probably smart that we came before _everyone_ else does. I’m not a fan of crowds,” Ruby told him as they followed some randoms into the clothing store.

 

The H&M immediately bombarded them with colors, signs, and creepishly friendly employees, who had perfect teeth and hair. Castiel figured if there was ever a dystopian future it would feature these robotic people that had to be nice to everyone they met, no matter how rude. He prayed that he never had to work a form of customer service. Ruby was dragging him over to the section that was clearly for _men_ , which was somehow more dull, and less exciting than the section for women and girls. Castiel really despised gendered spaces. Why did he have to wear the things that men had to wear? Usually, the men’s clothing was not nearly as fashionable as the women’s.

 

“I usually shop over there,” he whispered, shyly gesturing back at the female section of the store. “Guys’ stuff isn’t as exciting a lot of the time.”

 

Ruby smirked knowingly. “Yeah, I hear you. The only reason I walked over here was for this-” In Ruby’s hand was a (fake) leather jacket; it was a warm brown that had a snazzy front, and too many zippers in Castiel’s opinion. However, she was holding it up to him as if he had been born to wear it.

 

“On _me_?” he laughed. “Nah. I’m not a fake leather kinda guy.”

 

“Oh, but you would look so hot in this,” she pointed out, as if being ‘hot’ mattered. “Seriously, have you ever _looked_ in a mirror before? You are a regulation hottie.”

 

Castiel shook his head quickly and took a few steps back, which only sent him bumping into a rack of jeans. This of course made her step closer, and now he was stuck between her and dark-washed denim. “I’m not...hot...whatever that means,” he said.

 

Which was true; when he had been in the third grade, a kid named Raphael had called him goofy looking, because he had had huge ears, huge hands, and big teeth as a kid. Castiel had found the insult to be ridiculous, considering the kid’s name was _Raphael_ , not that he had much room to talk with his birth name. Despite all of that, he had grown up believing he was a weird looking kid, who had never quite managed to grow into his frame.

 

“Are you _serious_?” Ruby laughed. “Oh my God, you’ve got to be joking. Cas, girls trip over themselves to be with boys with jaw lines like yours.”

 

Burning his face off sounded like more fun than listening to her tell him how girls found him attractive. He didn’t actually _care_ if _girls_ found him attractive or not, but then, she didn’t know that, so he couldn’t really penalize her for the assumption that he was in fact straight. “Ruby-” he went to protest, but she kept going.

 

“You’re super hot. You’ve got the sexy smoulder going, you’ve got gorgeous eyes, and your lips are freakishly pink and kissable. _And_ , you have permanent sex hair. Like what the fuck is with that?” Ruby asked, sounding almost offended by his apparent good looks.

 

He could only stand and stammer, trying to find a way to tell her that not only did he not view himself as a babe, or hot, or attractive, but that he was also gay. However, she ended up pulling him all around the store, picking things up along the way, and chatting his ear off. For the moment, he let the notion go; he would tell her later.

 

☣ ☢ ☣ ☢

 

“I told you it was good,” Ruby said as they sat together in the Starbucks across from where Ruby’s aunt would be arriving soon.

 

He had never had a pumpkin chai latte before, but he had to admit, they _were_ delicious. He needed the warmth anyway. They had had a productive day of shopping, and while he had not bought anything he could not directly use, as per Gabriel’s stipulation, he was still fairly excited about his purchases. “You’re right,” he admitted. “It is very good.”

 

Ruby smiled triumphantly as if she had won something. “Come on, I _know_ you hate the cold, but we better go wait outside.”

 

Castiel nodded and then reluctantly followed her to the sidewalk to wait. He took a step back when she came to stand in front of him; not because he didn’t like her, or due to possible body odor after their physical excursion, but because he had trouble focusing on things too close to his face, and Ruby seemed to have forgotten personal space, and what that meant. She smiled at him then, but this smile was different, less friendly, more shy.

 

“Ruby?” he asked, his head tilting to the side.

 

“I had _such_ a good time today, Cas,” she said slowly. “You’re really fun to hang out with.”

 

“Thanks, I had a good time too.” He blushed a bit and then raised his fingers so he could blow on them. He really needed to invest in gloves. A frown began to form between his eyebrows when Ruby continued to smile at him in that strange, shy way that he was not used to. Did he have something on his face? “You’re staring at me,” he pointed out.

 

Her reply was, “I know.” Castiel couldn’t quite decide if he was more creeped out or more confused. The feelings seemed to be about equal.

 

“Ugh...do I have something on my face?” he asked, wishing he had a mirror so he could check himself. Ruby was leaning into him, and Castiel just stared at her, confused, and alarmed. What was happening? Why was it-

 

Ruby was kissing him.

 

 _Kissing_ him.

 

On the lips.

 

He had never been kissed before; he had seen plenty of movies where the protagonist is kissed by girls. They were always attractive men, with big muscles, or a rugged face. He had neither of those things. They also always seemed to know _exactly_ what to do, and Castiel did not. He just stared at her in bewilderment, unable to pull away, or to even push her back. His first kiss was in front of a Starbucks, his eyes wide open, blinking wildly in confusion, by a girl who he called his friend, at the end of September, at almost two thirty in the afternoon. He supposed that it could have been worse; he had always envisioned his first real kiss coming to him via a dare at a party, or some guy or girl taking on a bet about getting in his pants. At least Ruby’s kiss seemed genuine.

 

When it ended, she pulled back at slowly opened her eyes, a smile ghosting her lips. “How was that?” she asked him.

 

“Ugh...um….I think it was a pretty good kiss-I don’t really have any prior experience, so I can’t really tell you if it was good or not but um...Ruby-there’s something I have to tell you..”

 

“I think you’re really cute Cas, and I know you think you’re just… a bomb or something, waiting to go off and destroy everything and everyone you know, and love, but I don’t see you that way. I see you as a boy I like, my friend. Someone who is disgustingly attractive, like how dare you, but-”

 

He couldn’t help it, he had to cut her off before she got too worked up about dating him. While he was flattered, it would never work out, so he reached over and put his fingers to her lips. “Ruby,” he said firmly. “I’m gay.”

 

Ruby blinked at him a few times, and then she looked him over, as if that would confirm what he just said, before saying “ _Ohh_.”

 

“Sorry,” he added quickly. Apologizing for his sexual orientation, while he did not feel was completely necessary, seemed right in this moment. “If I was straight, I’d probably wanna go out with you too. You’re very pretty.”

 

Now he just had to wait for her to yell at him. That was what he figured would happen; how he had led her on, or how he should have told her earlier. But instead of yelling at him, she just nodded and smiled. “Okay,” she replied. “Sorry for that then, didn’t mean to freak you out or anything.”

 

“Oh-...so you’re not mad?” he asked.

 

“Nope. Disappointed, sure, but not mad. You can’t help who you like.” Ruby smiled and threw her arms around him in a tight hug. “Okay?”

 

“Yeah,” he agreed slowly, still stunned that she didn’t care at all. “You can’t.” Slowly, Castiel slid his arms around her and hugged her back.

 

 

 

 

 


	7. Sworn Enemies

 

Dean clutched the letter carefully in his hands as he read over each page, a smile on his face the entire time, especially with Castiel’s crossed out spiel about being kissed by a girl. Perhaps, he would tell Castiel _his_ first experience of kissing a girl; it had not gone well either. The picture of the kitten _was_ quite cute, even Dean to admit. He was not a fan of cats, but that was only because they made him sneeze. He had to work today, in the kitchens, but afterwards, when he had  some down time he would write Castiel back. He was already thrilled with how frequent the letters were coming in, and he would have to remind himself that Castiel did have a lot of things to do, and could not always write him every day, despite how much that would make him happy.

 

“ ‘Nother letter?” Benny asked him as he sank down to eat his breakfast too.

 

He nodded and quietly folded the letter back up and put it in the envelope again. “Yep. Kid’s real good about it.”

 

“Hm,” was Benny’s only reply, and they ate breakfast together in silence.

 

Dean plowed through the food, that after receiving Castiel’s letters, always seemed to taste better. When he finished, he tucked his letter safely away, and went to go and prepare himself for work. He needed to shower first, so Dean made his way back towards his bunk to put the letter away and gather up what he needed for the showers. If he hustled, he could get to the _good_ shower, the only one in the entire place that had decent water pressure.

 

“Winchester.”

 

Dean slowly looked up from where he had been stowing his letter, slowly straightening up. Hackles immediately raised, Dean suddenly wished he had something sharp in his hands. Gordon was standing outside of his bunk, a cold and twisted smile on his face. Gordon had always been a pain in his ass; he’d been torturing Dean for the past ten years, and even though not many people messed with him these days, Dean wasn’t surprised to see Gordon here with him now.

 

“Gordon,” he greeted slowly, his fingers twitching at his sides. “What can I do for you today?” Both of them knew he was not going to do shit for Dean, but they had to keep up appearances.

 

“I see you’re getting _mail_. How special for you,” the man said with a sneer. “You got yourself a little bird on the outside?”

 

"Yeah, what's it to ya?" he snipped back. He puffed up his chest and kept Gordon's eyeline, giving him a steely glare. Bullying Gordon wasn't hard - the man was much more talk than walk - but Dean's weakened muscles and nauseous stomach had him second-guessing himself."

 

“You think you’re top dog Winchester,” Gordon continued, stepping up to him so close that Dean could smell his bad breath. “With your high and mighty lawyer brother, and now your new little friend.” Gordon smiled, strangely amused with Dean’s friends. “But we both know that you’re not _anything_ to anyone.”

 

“What do you _want_ Gor-” Dean cut off when Gordon grabbed the front of his jump suit and slammed his other fist right into his stomach. He grunted and when Gordon let him go, he could only sink to the ground, coughing and sputtering.

 

“Your _reign_ is over Dean Winchester,” Gordon promised, his voice a slithering viper in the silence. “It’s my turn to run this place. You and Lafitte are _finished_. Got it?”

 

Dean coughed and sputtered again. “Fuck... _off_...Gordon,” he growled, even as he attempted to sit up weakly. “Benny’s gonna kick your ass-”

 

“Nah,” Gordon laughed with a cruel smirk. There was a bell going off, signaling them all that it was time to head to their respective work areas. Then with a mocking salute, Gordon was gone, leaving Dean to sit on the floor in his agony.

 

“Fucking dick,” Dean whispered to himself, slowly lifting up his shirt to look at the bruise already forming on his skin. He groaned in pain before slowly easing to his feet; he had suffered worse fates than this. His father had used to use him as a punching bag when he had been younger; he could deal with one weak punch. It wasn’t until he was back in the kitchens with Benny that he realized that he had never made it to the shower.

 

☣ ☢ ☣ ☢

 

The air was cool and crisp, with hints of cinnamon and warm cider on the rise. Above the expanse of the sky stretched on, only broken up by puffs of cotton white, scattered across like forlorn sheep forgotten by their shepherds. In between each cloud was a shock of cerulean emptiness. The ground was littered in foot prints from the multiple people that had tread here before them, and golden straw dirtied with age and use. Across the entire festival were colorful tent tops, colored in shades of red, green, yellow, and blue. Pumpkins were scattered sparesely, their ocher shades a flash against the dirtied straw and earth.

 

Castiel had never been to a fall festival before, but from the way Ruby had described it, he had never felt more excited before about something so simple. Why had Gabriel never taken him to a place where one could buy pumpkin flavored everything, and wear a warm peacoat, and huddle in a corn maze? The fall festival was perfect, and no one could convince him otherwise.

 

Ruby did not like crowds, but she was braving Saturday’s throng for him. ‘ _Honestly Castiel, how have you not been to a fall festival? You need to get out from under that rock’_ she had accused as they had drove to the festival. She had finally gotten her sling off, and he had gotten his cast off as well. They were both slightly less broken now. Gabriel wanted to come as well, but he had to work, as he had finally found a new job working for UPS. He now delivered packages 365 days a year, but Gabriel had always liked working as a postman, so Castiel figured he would enjoy this job too. Hopefully, he would be able to come by later when he had finished for the day.

 

“Do you like cider?” Ruby asked him, even as she steered him over to a line to buy a cup of the hot beverage. “I _love_ hot cider.”

 

“I prefer cold cider, actually,” he told her, much to her dismay. “It’s good.”

 

“Warm cider is _way_ better. Shouldn’t you like _love_ hot cider? With your predisposition of being cold all the time?” They reached the front of line and she ordered one hot cider and one cold, despite her confusion as to why he preferred cold to hot.

 

He wanted to protest her buying him his drink, but she was already passing him a cup, and the money over. She tended to buy things for him often, claiming that that was ‘what friends did for one another’. He was not an expert on the matter, so he really had no choice but to believe her. It was not as if he had ever _asked_ her to buy him something. He was just hoping that he did not become too tired before their day ended, since Ruby wanted to take him to the haunted trail later. But it was that time of year, and yesterday had been rough, and usually his rough days came in threes or fours. If he had felt shitty yesterday, he would probably be feeling shitty today too.

 

“I don’t know,” he finally replied, taking an eager sip of his drink. “I’ve just liked cold cider more...besides, I don’t have to wait to hydrate like you do.”

 

“ _Mine_ isn’t about hydration, it’s about staying _warm_ ,” she said proudly, as if warm cider had some hierarchal betterness over cold. He would have to see some science backing up her belief if this were true.

 

“Well, when I get a drink it’s about being hydrated,” he countered evenly. “My clothes are what keep me warm.”

 

“You’re just jealous that my drink is better.”

 

Castiel rolled his eyes, giving up on having this bizarre argument. Of all of the things they could have been arguing over (for example, if Cecil and Carlos actually belonged together - _they totally did_ \- or if Carlos is _actually_ insane and Night Vale was not a real place - _it so is_ ) this had not been on his list of things to bicker about. No matter how playful the situation. They walked on in silence for a while, with Ruby every now and again pointing something out, or pulling him over to look at a both. Castiel didn’t mind her excitement; he knew she would be excited about something (i.e. everything) since that was her usual M.O.

 

They were passing some delightfully colored, hand-made scarves, when Castiel heard _the voice_. Now, the voice is not something from a horror film, or something from inside his head. The voice belonged to one of his tormentors; _the_ tormentor even. The boy who made sure his life was utter hell on a day to day basis at times; he hadn’t picked on him lately, and Castiel wasn’t sure if it were due to his new friendship with Ruby, or if his tormentor had found someone new to torture. Bartholomew (most people, okay _all_ people, called him Bart) was standing with a few of his nameless cronies by the kettle corn stand.

 

Dread filled Castiel’s stomach and he could only stare in surprise and horror. The reminder of why he did not go out often was standing only a few feet away. Confrontation with people was his least favorite thing in the entire universe. He would have taken several rounds of chemo over having to confront someone he did not like. Fear, which he felt was completely irrational, made him stiffen up, and soon Ruby was looking at him funny, trying to figure out his problem.

 

“What’s the matter?” she implored, tilting her head one way and then the other.

 

“Bartholomew Berkley, _that’s_ my problem,” he replied tiredly. Castiel could feel his energy draining away at the thought of Bartholomew seeing him and walking over to “talk” to him.

 

The guy had had  it in for him ever since he had moved to Boston, and he wasn’t even sure _why_. Maybe it was because he basically had infinite use of late and bathroom passes. In fact, he didn’t even have to _ask_ for bathroom passes; when he needed to use the restroom, he could just go, just in case (there it was again) he needed to throw up. But that did not keep him from asking for them anyway, unless he really did need to throw up.

 

Or maybe it was due to the fact that Castiel threatened him somehow, not that Castiel could ever figure out how or why this would be true. In his own opinion, he was _not_ threatening, he was the complete opposite of threatening. His picture would be nowhere near the word threatening in the dictionary. But, Castiel did not know Bartholomew’s reasons, and he was not going to stick around to ask him either.

 

“Berkley? Seriously?” Ruby crossed her arms and cocked her hips, looking unamused. “Barty has _such_ a hard on for you.”

 

“What?” Castiel asked quickly, whipping his head to look at her so fast that he practically gave himself whiplash. “You can’t be serious-”

 

“Have you _seen_ the way he looks at you? He’d get on his knees for you _so_ fast, Cas.” Ruby smirked, as if this amused her somehow.

 

Castiel did not find it to be amusing. “No he wouldn’t. He _hates_ me, and I’m not exactly the poster boy for his fan club.”

 

Ruby snorted, “He can pretend to hate you all he wants, but everyone knows he’s homo for you.”

 

“No,” he replied firmly. Believing in Santa Claus would have been easier than believing Bartholomew Berkley had a crush on him. “I don’t believe you.”

 

“Fine, don’t believe me. Ask him yourself-” Ruby went to call him over but Castiel shushed her. “What?” she asked.

 

“I don’t _want_ to talk to him, okay? Can we just walk now-” He slid his hands around Ruby’s arm and began to pull her away, but it was too late, he hadn’t moved fast enough.

 

“Hey- _Novak_ ,” Bartholomew said with his classic and trademarked devilish smile. “And Ruby, how typical.”

 

Castiel turned nervous eyes on Bartholomew and company, now wishing he could melt and become one with the earth. If only for a few minutes. “Go away Bartholomew-”

 

“It’s _Bart_ ,” he snarled. “Got it?”

 

“He’ll call you whatever he wants,” Ruby snapped, much braver than Castiel. “Like I”m gonna call you Barty McAss-Face if you keep it up.”

 

“Why you little _bitch_ -”

 

Ruby gasped and pressed a hand to her chest, pretending to be offended. “Oh, how _painful_. Is that all you got, Limp Dick?”

 

“Ruby, let’s go,” Castiel murmured against her ear, trying to pull her along. Again, he was not a fan of confrontation. “Please.”

 

“Yeah, run away little girls,” Zachariah, one of Bart’s friends said with a wave of his overly-lotioned hands.

 

There were many reasons that Castiel did not enjoy confrontation, and the fear of physical fighting was one of them; he had never been punched in the face, but he had _seen_ people be punched in the face, and it was not a physical sensation he wanted to experience firsthand. He was also not a fan of being a bystander to fighting; he just wanted to leave, and let well enough alone. However, the look on Bartholomew’s face when Ruby punched Zachariah right in the nose, was completely worth it.

 

“Who you calling little girl, asshole?!” Ruby shouted at Zachariah as his hands flew to cover up his nose, blood pouring through his fingers and onto his shirt. Bartholomew, Zachariah, and Hannah all stared at them in shock, before turning to leave. “Yeah, you better run!” Ruby called after him, her body shaking in anger.

 

Castiel stammered at her, but soon Ruby had his arm in her hand, and then she was dragging him away towards the direction he had been trying to urge her earlier. Stammering continued to be the best option, as they soon put distance between themselves and the crime scene. “What did you do that for?” he whispered.

 

“ _Someone_ had to put that punk in his place,” she snapped at him angrily. “And even though they _are_ dicks, I’m still pretty sure Barty would suck yours if you wanted him to.” She reached over to pick up a random piece of jewelry in front of a both; a necklace with a red ruby bat on the end. It seemed fitting that she would pick something like that up to muse over.

 

“I _don’t_ want him to, I can’t stand him...besides, I’m not really into the idea of sex.” He didn’t look her in the eye, and instead focused on hiding behind a rack of necklaces. They glimmered in the sunshine, different colors with blues, reds, pinks, and greens. They were also over-priced in his opinion, but the seller had to make money somehow.

 

“Wait-” Ruby followed him, popping around where he was hiding to stand next to him. “You’re not into the idea of sex? Are you asexual?”

 

"I don't know... I mean, I'm _kinda_ curious. And, well-" Castiel could feel his face flushing bright red, and he ducked his head to look at more jewelry, avoiding her eyes. "I'm just not into guys my age. I like older men... I guess."

 

“ _Ohhhh_ , Cas likes _older_ men. Hey, I don’t blame you. Steady jobs, ability to buy alcohol, 401ks. That’s what _everyone_ wants in a partner… that and being hung like a horse. Personally, I like mine tall, and giant. Big muscles, nice faces, you know what I’m sayin’ Cas?”

 

Castiel glanced over at her and laughed a bit. “So, what drew you to me? I’m none of the above.”

 

It was her time time to blush and duck her head in shame. “I don’t know, actually… I think it’s just because 1,” she held up a finger, “You _are_ super hot. Like damn son, you should model. And then 2,” she held up a second finger, “You’re really genuine and nice. I’d kill to have a boyfriend who was that genuine and nice.”

 

“I see,” Castiel replied. “I like that necklace you picked out, with the bat? It suits you.”

 

She smiled and picked it up again, holding the charm to her chest. “This one?” she asked.

 

He nodded, “Yeah, that one.”

 

The bat dangled and swung around on the chain in an attempt to fly away when she let it fall from her chest so she could look at it more directly. “I might buy it, it _is_ cute.” She held onto it as they began to look at other pieces and products for sale. “So, you got any crushes on any older dudes?”

Castiel slid his fingers along a leather bound journal that had a dragon engraved on its front; if it hadn’t cost over sixty dollars he would have bought it. His mind’s eye began to conjure the image of Dean, which made him blush. This of course, made her giggle and squeal slightly.

 

“You _do_. Who? Do I know them? Or is it a celeb crush?” she asked excitedly.

 

Castiel sighed and slowly turned to face her. “It’s top secret,” he replied seriously, which in a way it _was_. He couldn’t just go around advertising that he had a crush on some guy in jail that he barely knew. No matter _how_ hot he happened to be.

 

Ruby immediately drew in closer and became completely serious. “Okay, who?” she whispered.

 

“You can’t tell _anyone_ ,” he whispered back. They were huddled by a rack of sweaters, which when Castiel looked back on this later, he would see the irony in the situation.

 

“I won’t, I swear.”

 

“Swear on something super important to you,” he countered. Maybe that was completely overkill, but at least if he had her swear on something sacred then-

 

“I swear on Ceilos,” she whispered dramatically, but he could tell she was dead serious.

 

He blinked and then nodded his acceptance of this answer. “There’s this guy I met at chemo...His name is Dean... _Winchester_.”

 

“As in... _Mrs._ Winchester?” she hissed, her eyes widening with excitement.

 

“I don’t know, I haven’t asked….Thing is, is that Dean’s in jail,” he added with a look of embarrassment.

 

“Wait-whoa, whoa. Slow down!” Ruby held up both of her hands, trying to backtrack. “Dean is in _jail_?” She glanced over her shoulder and grew quiet when a couple went to pass them, giving them nods and smiles, before turning her attention back on him. “Cas _no_.”

 

He shrugged slightly. “I’m writing him letters,” he muttered casually, dragging his fingertip along the wool of the black sweater he was next to. “I’ve written him two already. He seems really nice. I mean, I _know_ it’s not ideal, having a crush on a man who was… or is a criminal. He told me what he did.”

 

“Did he _kill_ someone?” she asked, keeping her voice low, but excited.

 

“ _No_. He held up a store to get money for him and his brother… I mean it wasn’t the _smartest_ thing, but he didn’t hurt anyone, and if what he said is true, I don’t blame him.”

 

“What did he say?”

 

“They were starving, him and his brother… If _you_ were starving you would do anything to not be starving too… I haven’t really asked him much about it, I assume when he’s ready he’ll tell me himself, and if he doesn’t, then he doesn’t. It’s his business, not mine.” He shrugged and finally ushered them out of their gossip corner.

 

“But, aren’t you curious?” she pointed out. “I would be.”

 

“I _am_ but I don’t want to scare him off from writing me, you know what I mean? I enjoy writing him… but you can’t _tell_ anyone. Not even Gabe knows I’m writing him, I don’t think he would approve.” Gabriel approved of a lot of unorthodox things, but Castiel had a feeling that him writing a felon would not be one of those things.

 

Ruby mimed zipping her mouth shut. “Secret’s safe with me, Cas.”

 

He nodded. “Thanks.”

 

“No problem,” she replied. They walked up to the seller, and Ruby bought the necklace. The woman smiled serenely at them, almost nostalgic, and Castiel realized she thought they were together. If _he_ had seen them together he would have thought the same, since he was not exactly wearing an ‘I’m gay’ flashing, neon sign.

 

“I think that woman thought we were dating,” he told her as soon as they were out of earshot.

 

Ruby snorted. “Probably, you _are_ freakishly gentlemanly,” she replied dryly.

 

“I was taught to be polite,” he said quickly. “There is nothing wrong with being polite.”

 

“I didn’t say there was,” she said. “You just act really nice, like a _boyfriend_ would. That’s all.” She winked and took his hand, in her friendly way he hoped, before dragging him off towards the corn maze. “Let’s see if we can figure this out without a map.”

 

“We’ll get lost,” he protested, but it was too late, they were walking in and he couldn’t get to the maps in time. So Castiel sighed and followed her; not that he had much choice in the matter. Ruby reminded him of the wind, she went wherever life took her, without a care in the world. In a way, it was inspiring, and in other ways Castiel found himself afraid of that type of lifestyle. He was used to schedules, and routine, and no matter how hard his ship rocked, he would cling to the side and hang on for dear life, waiting for the tempest to pass.

 

Ruby would be trapped in a life like his. Wild birds were not built for cages, they were made to fly high in the sky, and to live their lives freely. Where she was a wild bird, born to soar and thrive, he was a caged, mute, songbird, its feathers falling out little by little, and too weak to fly. He was waiting to die, and she was waiting to start her life beyond high school. Castiel could not see himself living past the age of twenty-five. That was where he had stopped imagining; his psychiatrist had told him that he was being too negative, and too morbid; with the medicine he took, and the advancement of chemo treatments, he was “expected” to live a full, and healthy life.

 

But the people who told him this all lived outside of his body, they were not _in_ his body, and they did not feel weak like he did. Frail, like tissue paper, that was how he felt at times. It was difficult to be more than his disease, to identify as something _more_. He tried, yes, and some days he succeeded better than others. Today was not one of his successful days. His thoughts turned to Dean, and how he only had eight more months on his sentence, but a question mark on how many months he had left to live. For Dean’s sake, Castiel truly hoped it was many, _many_ more months. If anyone deserved a second chance to live their life, to make up for what they had done in the past, it was Dean Winchester.

 

Castiel decided then that he would ask Mrs. Winchester on Monday if she had sons. She never spoke of her home life, and perhaps that was for good reason, but there was no harm in asking. He wouldn’t ask anything else, just if she had children. An easy enough question.

 

“Cas!”

 

Ruby’s sharp voice brought him back to reality, and he looked at her; she was staring at him in concern, as if there were something wrong with him. But then, when _wasn’t_ there something wrong with him? “What?” he asked.

 

“You didn’t hear a word I said, did you?” Ruby shook her head and sighed tiredly. She seemed so exasperated, and for a moment Castiel feared; he feared that she would grow tired of _him_ , and stop being his friend. He feared that he would lose her, and the solace he found with her.

 

“I’m sorry,” he apologized quickly, reaching to touch her shoulder. The tears that filled his eyes came unexpectedly, and they were falling so fast that he couldn’t stop them. “I’m sorry Ruby, please don’t be mad at me, I space out a lot-I’m so sorry-”

 

“Whoa-...Cas…” She turned to face him, this time reaching to cup his face in both of her hands, her thumbs acting as mini wipers to slide his tears away. “Shh, shh...It’s _okay_. We all space, dude, it’s okay. Why are you crying?”

 

His breath hitched and he pulled away in shame. He would have to ask his doctor about upping dosage with the coming autumn and fall. “I-...I have terrible anxiety, I’m extremely irrational, I’m very sorry you have to put up with me,” he sobbed. The ground came up a little faster than expected when he wrapped his arms around himself, and slid to his knees. A rock jammed right into his kneecap, which made him hiss in pain, his tears now for something else entirely. “Ow-”

 

“Cas!” Ruby sild down onto the ground with him, and then she had her arms around his body, pulling him in so close that he could smell the shampoo on her hair. “It’s okay,” she whispered, “It’s okay.”

 

“I know I’m a mess, it’s a bad day-God, I’m _sorry_. I was just thinking about how you’re a free spirit, and if you lived a life like mine, you’d feel choked and chained...and how I’m this caged bird, with broken wings, and feathers that are falling out, too weak to go on...and how I’m gonna die one day and-”

 

“Cas, we’re _all_ gonna die one day,” she told him gently. Her hands slid up to start running over his hair in a rhythmic and soothing way.

 

“Yeah, but I’m gonna go faster than you-” he tried to say but she was shushing him again.

 

“You don’t know that for sure, okay? No one does. But I get it, I mean I don’t _get_ it, but I can see why you’re afraid. You’re sick, you have a sickness inside you that’s trying to kill you, but Cas, you could be doing so much worse, think about it.” Ruby took a moment to let her previous words sink in, and then she was shifting them so she could cup his face again, forcing them to look eye-to-eye. “You could be hospitalized, or so sick that you can’t walk or do anything. You’re doing _great_ , and you’re going to make it, I can feel it in my bones. Okay? I can _feel_ it.”

 

He sniffed, which was probably quite pathetic, but then again they were already in the dirt, and he was red eyed and pale; he probably looked like death warmed over. “Yeah?” he whispered shakily.

 

“ _Yeah_. I’m sorry that you’re having a bad day, or bad time, or whatever it is… I wish I could take your pain away, all of it, I really do… You are _so_ metal, Cas. You are the strongest person I know, and granted, I’m only seventeen so it’s not like I know a lot of people, but I do know that you are the strongest of them all.” Ruby smiled at him, and it was encouraging in the simplest way. It made him feel better, stronger even. “You can fight this, because you’ve got people who love you, and who are rooting for you. Okay?”

 

Castiel relinquished a nod. “Okay,” he whispered, before slowing giving her a thumbs up.

 

“Alright,” Ruby grinned. “Let’s find our way outta here.”

 

☣ ☢ ☣ ☢

 

“Hey Novak!!”

 

It was _the voice_ again. Castiel sighed and slowly turned around; he and Ruby were in line for the haunted trail. He was going to stick it out, and Gabriel was supposed to be arriving soon, which would make this way less terrifying. But now Bartholomew was coming up to him, probably intending to ruin his night. “What?” he asked tiredly, already through with the fight that hadn’t even happened yet.

 

Bartholomew walked up to him and got right in his face, his fist curling in Castiel’s shirt, holding him still. “Where’s your little girlfriend, huh?” he snarled vehemently.

 

Castiel turned his head where Ruby had been just a moment ago; he had no idea, and his heart slammed in his chest. “She probably went to the bathroom, genius,” he quipped back. “Let me go.”

 

“Not before I make you pay- You think you’re _so_ special-”

 

“I do not,” he answered. “I _know_ I’m not special, it’s not like I _asked_ to have cancer, asshat.” Castiel twisted out of Bartholomew’s grip and spun to shove him hard in the chest. He had never really perceived himself as strong, but his anger must have made him have more force than usual, because he practically knocked Bart to the ground. “ _Leave_ me alone.”

 

Bartholomew was alone, his cronies had clearly not joined him on this excursion, and they were in a public line. They were at the end, but there were still plenty of people up ahead of them. This made Bart pause, and he glowered at Castiel darkly. “I’m gonna pound your face into the ground on Monday,” he growled.

 

“No you _won’t_ ,” Castiel said firmly. “You know why? Because if you fucking touch me, I will fight back, and I got nothing to lose pal. I’m not afraid to bite, and scratch, and poke your fucking _eyes_ out. So leave me alone, I have done _nothing_ to earn your animosity except breathe. Maybe you’ll get your wish soon and I’ll finally _stop_ breathing, but it’s not going to be tonight, so I suggest you leave.” He had no idea where this bravery was coming from, but perhaps it was the anticipation of being scared out of his skin in the haunted trail, giving him some extra power in his voice and hands. “Got it?”

 

Bartholomew continued to glare at him, but he didn’t step closer, and eventually he turned and stormed off in the opposite direction. Once he was gone, Castiel spun back around to claw the crowd for Ruby; where had she gotten to? The sound of clapping drew his attention, and Castiel turned to find his both his brother and Ruby standing off to the side, looking proud. As if he had just won a world cup for standing up for one’s self. Maybe he had, who knew.

 

“You were there the whole time?!” he demanded angrily, but the tension seeped from his shoulders. “Of course you were… Oy.”

 

“Sorry, I saw you sticking up for yourself, and I was like ‘Oh my gosh, he’s finally doing it’, so I just stayed over here,” Ruby explained. “And then Gabriel joined me, so we kinda just watched the show unfold. I’m _so_ proud.”

 

“Ugh,” Castiel groaned, slowly turning away from them. It wasn’t long before they were both on top of him, hugging and squeezing him as if he had won the World Series. “Guys- _stop_ -”

 

“Hey,” Gabriel said. “It’s not every day my little brother grows a backbone.”

 

“It’s always been there,” Ruby replied with a firm nod. “Just gotta dig a bit.”

 

Castiel rolled his eyes again, and he almost thanked the man in the mask for coming up behind both of them and scaring them stupid. After that, he couldn’t stop smiling, much to the others’ dismay.

 

“Keep smiling and I’ll cut your lifespan down a few months,” Gabriel teased him slightly, giving him a gentle push.

 

He gave Gabriel a half smile. “Promise?” he teased back.

 

“Yeah, c’mon,” Gabriel slid his hands to Castiel’s shoulders to steer him. “And yeah, your cat is fine, both of ‘em. I made sure.”

 

“Thanks Gabriel.” He had been worrying over Khoshekh all day; he _knew_ Sunny was okay, she hardly ever had a problem being alone, but he feared that Khoshekh would have separation anxiety. “You’re sure?”

 

“ _Yes_ , Cas. Now come on, it’s our turn.”

 

Castiel sighed; he had not signed up for this.

 

☣ ☢ ☣ ☢

 

“I wish you’d just go to bed,” Benny grumbled to the dark.

 

Dean was still up, scribbling away on his pad of paper. He had been writing and rewriting his letter to Castiel for a few hours now. After Gordon’s attack he had been feeling somewhat paranoid. Had the son of a bitch finally manned up and gotten some sort of gang to fight against him and Benny? He wasn’t sure what Gordon was in for, but Dean had a feeling whatever it was, it wasn’t robbing stores with guns and not hurting anyone. He had never felt so vulnerable before. But writing Castiel helped ground him, and this was the only time he had had today to start. He had to keep up with Castiel’s letters, so he was writing while Benny, and the rest of the jail attempted to sleep. He was doing so under his blanket with the tiniest of flashlights he had snuck out of the work room; it fit in his mouth, and the light wasn’t atrociously bright, just enough that he could see to write by. And all he had to do was return it by tomorrow and no one would know.

 

Writing to Castiel was difficult, because how much was too much to share, and when was it okay to vent? Of course, he had _been_ venting for a few paragraphs now, and he just hoped Castiel could forgive him for it. _Write that down. Say you’re sorry for venting_. Dean wrote a quick apology. God, his handwriting was even worse in this light. Would Castiel even be able to read this? Dean sighed and shook his head, not letting himself focus on miniscule details like that. He’d be able to read it; he _would_ -

 

“Brother,” Benny whispered then, his voice insistent.

 

Dean paused and strained his ears; someone was coming. Yanking the flashlight from between his teeth, Dean shoved it under his stomach so it wouldn’t glow through the blanket he had over his head. He even tried to slow his breathing, trying to make it appear that he was indeed asleep. The last thing he needed was to be taken to solitary-

 

“Winchester. Get up.”

 

 _Fuck_.

 

Dean bit back a groan and carefully shut the flashlight off and left it beneath his blanket, slowly getting up and holding up his hands. “Evening gentlemen, ain’t it a bit late to come for a house call?” he joked. Usually, he could charm his way out of anything.

 

“Check his bed,” the first guard said. Dean knew him to be named Turner. Rufus Turner.

 

“What for?” Dean snapped, suddenly defensive and annoyed.

 

“We got word that you’ve got a bit of contraband hidden in here,” Rufus replied.

 

They were going to find the flashlight, and it wasn’t as if it was _dangerous_ , but he wasn’t supposed to have it in his bunk, since it belonged in one of the work rooms. He probably could have had it if hadn’t belonged elsewhere. However, calling it _contraband_ was a bit extreme in Dean’s opinion, but perhaps they were cracking down more lately.

 

“He’s got it,” the other guard said. Dean did not recognize him, he must have been new.

 

“Come on Dean,” Rufus said, gesturing for him to follow. “Solitary.”

 

“Are you _serious_?” Dean hissed. “Over a tiny flashlight?”

 

“Sorry Winchester, Warden’s orders. C’mon. Don’t make me force you.” Rufus shifted his belt around, drawing Dean’s attention to the handcuffs. He wanted to groan, but he gave Benny a look as he slid past him.

 

“Benny, don’t let Gordon go through my shit,” he said as he was led away. He could only see Benny nod, and then he was being led away none too gently. “You mind telling me how you found out? Wasn’t by Gordon was it? Gordon Walker?”

 

“Ain’t your business Winchester, just keep walkin’ or I’ll drag you,” Rufus replied stiffly.

 

Dean sighed and allowed Rufus to drag him to solitary; he hated solitary. He had spent three weeks in solitary once; it had left him feeling sick with fear and paranoia. After his three week visit, he had promised to never come back, but here was, promise broken. “How long?” he asked before Rufus was shutting him in without another word. “Rufus! How long?!” Dean slammed on the door but he received no answer.

 

Screaming anger, Dean knocked the toilet a few times before throwing himself on the cot. Eight more months and he was thrown in solitary. Then he remembered.

 

He remembered and he _laughed_.

 

He had chemo tomorrow.

 

 


	8. Wallflower

Mrs. Winchester was sitting at her desk when he walked in. Castiel attempted to remain timid and small, mainly due to his nerves. He was about ask his teacher a question that would silently answer his own. When he came to stand in front of her desk. she glanced up at him, and then removed her reading glasses, giving him a warm smile. She said, “Hello Castiel.”

 

“Good morning, Mrs. Winchester,” he muttered quietly. “Can...Can I ask you a question?”

 

“Of course Dear, what is it?” she asked.

 

“Do you...have children?” he asked slowly.

 

Normally, Mrs. Winchester kept a happy face on, no matter the circumstances. She was always smiling, it was quite comforting, which was probably why she did it. But as soon as the question left his mouth, she tensed up, and her face paled further. The harsh fluorescent lights made her stark cheekbones stand out more, and Castiel noted the dark circles beneath her eyes. Her lips, painted in a light shade of rose, formed in a thin line, and her reading glasses were quickly returned to her face. “I do not believe that is an appropriate question for my students to be asking,” she snipped coldly.

 

Castiel had never heard his teacher sound so _angry_ before, and whether she knew it or not, her tone spoke volumes. He had a feeling that it was perfectly fine to assume that she did indeed have children, and one of them was in jail. But why would she not admit to at least having one son? Was she ashamed of Sam too? He muttered an apology, allowed his shoulders to slump, and then trudged over to his desk. The chair felt too far away as he sank down, and turned his forlorn gaze out the window. Dean’s letter should be arriving soon.

 

After class started, Castiel slowly turned his eyes back on Mrs. Winchester and began to study her, slowly drinking her entire being in. The dress she wore looked to be second-hand, or very old, because he could see some old stains along the skirt, and the edges were frayed, as if they had been eaten by moths. The floral pattern did not suit her, at least not in his opinion. Blonde hair, tied back tightly away from her face, was in a no-nonsense bun, and her face was a hardened mask. The wrinkles around her eyes stood out starkly when she yanked her hair back, which had been down before, he remembered. She must have pulled it back after he had spoken with her.

 

Her shoes, small heeled blue pumps, were stained with dark spots; Castiel was guessing coffee stains from when she spilled on herself in the early mornings before school started. Picturing Mrs. Winchester as a mother was not a hard concept; she was normally a kind, loving, and caring woman. Her students’ well-being kept her on her toes, and she doted over them all like a mother would. Or at least, like what he imagined a mother would. His mother had been so grief stricken over him that she had been overbearing or distant, there had never been an in between.

 

She spoke to them quickly, and snapped at more students than usual, and Castiel realized with sadness that it was _his_ fault. As so many things usually were. When class ended, Castiel lingered behind, gathering up his books into his arms slowly. He tightened his jaw, straightened his shoulders, and slowly approached her desk. There was a photo of her and a little boy next to her computer; she had always claimed it to be her nephew.

 

“Mrs. Winchester?” he asked, his voice low and small. He felt like a trapped animal, not ready to face the hunter’s gun.

 

“Yes, Castiel?” she said exasperatedly. “What is it now? More personal questions that are not yours, or anyone else’s business?”

 

Clenching his teeth slightly, Castiel swallowed back his feelings. “I wanted to apologize,” he replied, trying to keep any tears from his eyes. “I did not mean to upset you-”

 

“You are going to be late to your next class, Castiel. Go on.” Her gesture was sharp, dismissive, and cold, much like her voice, as she gestured at her door. “I will not be writing you a late pass. Go.”

 

He nodded stiffly. Turning, and almost running into another student, Castiel raced from the classroom, heading towards the gym. He didn’t care if he was late to P.E. He didn’t care if he never went again. While he did not know her outside of a teacher-student relationship, Mrs. Winchester had always been kind to him, and very understanding. Never once had she been mean or short with him before. Ruining relationships should have been his career, because he was ridiculously good at it.

 

☣☢☣☢

 

“Ugh, I could rip her stupid hair out,” Ruby snarled. Rocks skidded in front of her as she kicked at them on their way around the track. He had not been as late as he had wanted to P.E. and despite the cold weather. Alastair had them outside on the track, doing laps. Since he couldn’t run without winding himself, he and Ruby were walking. “She didn’t have to be so fucking rude to you. Jesus Christ.”

 

“I shouldn’t have asked her,” he replied, his voice flat and monotone. He felt as gray as the world around him. Bringing himself to look up at anything but the ground was difficult, and in the back of his mind, he knew that he was taking this all too personally. But that didn’t make him feel any better.

 

“Okay, fine, _maybe_ you shouldn’t have asked, but she could have handled the situation better! Tearing a student down is _not_ okay.” Ruby seethed, and Castiel could feel her stiffening, as she continued to kick rocks on their way. “I’m so pissed, I could go in there and tear her a new one. She doesn’t know you! She doesn’t know your life! You could have been on the edge of fucking suicide for all she knows, and her yelling at you could have sent you reeling over the edge! I hate when teachers get off on snapping at their students.”

 

Castiel finally looked up and over at her. He had never met someone who would fight for him this gallantly, minus Gabriel. It was strange, having someone become so angry for him. “It’s okay, Ruby… I was out of line-”

 

“No. _She_ was out of line,” Ruby snarled coldly.

 

“Please don’t yell at her,” he whispered. With the words, his voice cracked, and then Castiel felt a cold rain drop smack him on the cheek. A rumble of thunder made Alastair blow his whistle, and then they were having to turn and walk all the way back. Even with the threat of rain, Castiel did not dare to run. The clouds opened up and a cold rain began to shower down on them, making girls squeal, and Alastair was trying to usher them to hurry up.

 

“Fuck!” Ruby raged, kicking another rock.

 

“You go ahead Ruby, it’s okay, you go get dry,” he insisted. When she went to protest, he just gave her a small push, so she turned and ran away, her feet pounding on the asphalt back inside. Castiel kept his walk, pumping his legs as fast as he could make them, but his lungs were aching with the effort. Having asthma on top of having cancer was no fun; he wasn’t terribly asthmatic, but enough exertion and he would be wheezing for awhile.

 

“Castiel! Faster!” Alastair called over the rain.

 

Castiel steeled himself and sped up, but he couldn’t keep up that pace for long. Air was important, and he needed oxygen to breathe. Running would not help him take in any oxygen. It was only running that really did him in; he could jog very slowly, but running and walking too fast made his heart gallop, and his lungs squeeze his his chest. Why couldn’t Alastair remember that? Or maybe he did, and it was ‘yell-at-Castiel-day’. He had missed the memo.

 

By the time he reached the door, Alastair had left, probably in favor of rounding up the class. Castiel stared at his reflection and saw what his brother would have called a ‘drowned rat’. The door felt heavy as he pulled it open, but Castiel squeaked, and squelched into the gym, and towards the locker room. Keeping his head down, he ignored his fellow classmates, and went to lock himself in a bathroom stall. He needed to throw up.

 

☣☢☣☢

 

“Cas?”

 

He slowly opened his eyes, and remembered that he was still in school, and in the boys’ locker room bathroom. He had been vomiting off and on for what felt like hours. Maybe it had been hours. Had he missed lunch? What time was it? Who was talking to him? It sounded like-

 

“Cas, it’s Gabriel. I got a phone call that you wouldn’t come out… and got all soaked, so I brought you some clothes to put on. Come on Cas, open the door, Buddy.”

 

It was Gabriel.

 

Castiel wiped some water, or maybe it was sweat, from his brow before going to unlock the bathroom door and let Gabriel in. His brother slid into the stall with him, and suddenly Castiel was glad he had picked the big stall. He conveyed this by putting his head against the toilet seat and shutting his eyes. He was fairly certain that was a universally sign for happiness. No? Oh well.

 

“Hey Cas,” Gabriel whispered. His brother knelt down beside him and wrapped a towel around him first, trying to dry him off like an animal. “You’re freezing, come on, let’s get you redressed. I’m going to take you home, alright?”

 

“I thought you had work,” Castiel muttered as he allowed Gabriel to peel his wet gym shirt off. It stuck to his skin and made a sucking sound as it was peeled away. The sound made Castiel shudder.

 

“I did, but I got a call on route about you, and my boss, bless his fucking heart, is actually pretty understanding, and let me go for the day. Come on, you’re gonna get pneumonia if we don’t get you warmed up. I brought blankets in the car,” Gabriel said. His brother’s face was a mask of concern and worry, all bundled up into one. This was normal for Gabriel, since he was always worried.

 

Once he was down to just his boxers, Castiel shivered, and then those were gone too, and felt the sudden need to cover himself up. It felt wrong, being naked in his high school’s bathroom, but it couldn’t be helped, and soon he was swathed in new underwear, warm pants, an undershirt, a t-shirt, and then a hoodie over top of everything. It was like layering a burrito, Castiel thought, a burrito of sickness and feelings.

 

Gabriel smiled at his own handiwork, and the wet clothes were going into a plastic bag from Wal-Mart. “There,” he said triumphantly. “Come on, let’s get you on home, alright? I’ve already got your make up work at the front desk, we just gotta pick it up.”

 

“I don’t have to go home,” he whispered. “I didn’t throw up because of the cancer-”

 

“Your gym teacher told me that you were having trouble getting back inside, was it your asthma? I should have sent your inhaler with you-” Gabriel hissed to himself more than to Castiel.

 

Missing school was becoming such a common occurrence, that he was starting to wonder if he should just drop out. It wasn’t as if he were going to make anything of himself anyway. “I’m fine, Gabe, I can stay. I’m sick of missing school because of little stuff. I’m really fine.”

 

“Cas, I’d rather have you come home,” Gabriel replied, and from his tone, Castiel knew the conversation was over. So, with Gabriel’s help, he stood up, and then they were leaving the locker room. He continued to keep his head down, and he ignored the class’ stares. Dignity did not exist here at school, so Castiel just stared at the ground all the way out to the car. The ride home was silent, and when they came to the house, Castiel went straight up to his room to burrow beneath the blankets. He heard his door open a few moments later, and Castiel prayed that Gabriel would just leave him alone.

 

A lump was crawling its way up his blankets, and then he felt Sunny press against his side and begin to purr. Khoshekh joined her on his pillow, lying right next to his head. The door creaked as it shut again. Mr. Flopsy was lying beside Khoshekh so Castiel grabbed the rabbit and held it close to his chest as tightly as he could manage. A sob wrenched its way out of his mouth, and he buried his face into Khoshekh’s fur. The kitten kept purring.

 

☣☢☣☢

 

“Cas, you can’t avoid school forever,” Gabriel pointed out as Castiel continued to live under his blankets the following morning. “Come on, let’s get up, have some breakfast, and then I’ll take you to school.”

 

Castiel groaned and slowly rolled over to stare up at the ceiling. He had tried to count the textured bursts once, but he had lost count at one hundred and four. Texturing ceilings seemed pointless, but Castiel assumed there was a logical reason unbeknownst to him, hidden somewhere in an architect's manual that he had missed during Silent Sustained Reading in grade school.

 

“Cas, get up! Let’s go, right now!” This time Gabriel had whipped out “The Dad Voice Card”, and Castiel knew from past experience that he had about five seconds to get up and be physically dressed, or _consequences_ would start happening.

 

“I’m up,” he called grouchily through the door. He needed coffee ASAP. The cats were still sitting on his bed, looking at him in concern, as if he had grown a few extra limbs in his sleep.

 

“Good. Be downstairs in five minutes,” Gabriel said firmly.

 

“Kay,” he called, feeling that teen angst building up in his system. He had the sudden desire to blare punk rock, wear eyeliner, and write poetry about his shitty life… but that would have been overdramatic. Fun, because watching Gabriel’s face when he saw him like that would be hysterical, but still overdramatic. besides, he didn’t listen to punk rock, and he didn’t own any eyeliner, and he sure as hell was not a poet.

 

The cats continued to stare at him as he dressed, which Castiel attempted to hide in his closet, but Sunny had seen him naked… Sunny had probably even seen him masturbate a few times, so Khoshekh would just have to learn to be just as traumatized. That didn’t stop him from apologizing to the cats before picking up his bookbag and trudging down the stairs. He tried to make as much noise as possible to convey that he _really_ didn’t want to go to school.

 

“You go for chemo after school,” Gabriel informed him as soon as he entered the kitchen. He almost turned and went right back upstairs. “Just so you know.”

 

“Yeah, I recall,” he muttered bitterly. “Where’s the coffee?”

 

Gabriel gestured at the counter, and Castiel swarmed it like flies to honey. Michael thought he was too young for coffee, but on some days, it was the only thing to keep him upright, so Gabriel let him. “Here’s your breakfast.” A plate with two toaster waffles was unceremoniously shoved against his chest.

 

“You got me up for _Eggos_?” Castiel gaped and gawked. What a jerk. “That’s below the belt, Gabe. What the hell.”

 

Gabriel just smiled. “Come on, you can eat on the go.”

 

Castiel grumbled an ‘I hate you’ on the way out, to which Gabriel replied, “I love you too, Sunshine.”

 

☣☢☣☢

 

“Cas, get out of the car,” Gabriel said firmly. “I have to go to work, and you are not going to be the reason I’m late.” Gabriel’s good mood had quickly soured with Castiel’s bad attitude. Part of him felt guilty, but why should he be cheerful when he wasn’t? He was tired of putting on a fake smile for the world.

 

“I don’t want to go to school,” he repeated for the sixth time this morning.

 

“I don’t _care_ what you want Cas, I will _drag_ you inside. Now get out right now!” Gabriel snapped, his voice rising slightly. They had been fighting all morning after the Eggo incident. “Castiel, I will count to three, I swear-”

 

He looked over at Gabriel and _glared_ as hard as he could. “I said I don’t want to go-”

 

Gabriel rounded on him, “Well you’re under eighteen so you don’t get to make that decision. Now, get out!”

 

“Gabriel, I just want to go home-” he tried to protest, but then something broke in his brother, some button switch, or something simple snapped, because he was yelling, and Gabriel never yelled.

 

“Cas, I am so sick of your attitude right now! I have to go to work so I can pay the bills! Do you like having Netflix and the Internet, huh!? Do you like having power to keep the stove running and the fridge cold?! It’s not like _you_ work, you don’t contribute to the house! You don’t do _anything_ , Cas! You lay around the house and do _nothing_! But by all means, become a fucking wallflower since that’s all you seem to be good at! I didn’t sacrifice _my_ life for you to lay around and become _nothing_ , Castiel. Now get the hell out of this car.”

 

Castiel stared at Gabriel for a moment, a moment too long because his brother was getting out of the car and storming over to his door to yank it open. He hurried to get his seat belt off so he could scramble out before Gabe really did drag him inside. They had already made enough of a scene. Gabriel slammed his door shut and then walked over and got back into the car. He swallowed some tears back, muttered a _goodbye_ , and then hurried over to the front doors. Gabriel drove away and in a hurry, and Castiel flinched. His legs felt weak as he walked inside, back towards his locker.

 

Maybe Gabriel was sick of him, and of taking care of him. He would have been. His lips were raw by the time reached homeroom from trying to keep his tears away. Everyone grew tired of him, so why was he surprised that Gabriel finally was too? The classroom was empty save for Mrs. Winchester who was sitting at her desk; she hadn’t even bothered to look up at him when he came in. He usually received a kind greeting, but clearly not today. The field across from the school was muddy and dull against the backdrop of the gray and cloudy sky. The mailbox had been empty this morning, and Castiel hated that he hadn’t heard from Dean yet. Maybe Dean had gotten sick of him too.

 

Eventually he turned his eyes on his desk and didn’t bother to look up again. He would focus on this desk and meld into his surroundings… since that was all he was good at anyway.

 

“Castiel?”

 

His eyes darted up to where Mrs. Winchester had come to stand by his next, but she was sinking down into the desk’s chair in front of him. He quickly looked away again, not able to keep her gaze long.

 

“I would like to apologize for my behavior the other day… I was out of line, I should not have snapped at you the way I did. I’m sorry if I upset you.”

 

Castiel continued to not look at her, his eyes wavering on his desk. “It’s okay Mrs. Winchester,” he replied quietly, his voice barely above a whisper, “I was the one who was out of line, I should not have asked you such a personal question. I won’t do it again.” In fact, he wouldn’t be asking any more questions ever; he would stay silent and blend into the wall behind him. That was his purpose in life after all, to become a wallflower.

 

“Castiel-” She cut off, and he could tell she didn’t know what to say to him.

 

He shrugged his shoulders slightly. “It’s fine,” he said again. He wanted to tell her that he didn’t matter, and neither did his feelings. “I’m sorry for being rude.”

 

“It’s alright,” she replied gently. “You weren’t trying to attack me, you were just curious...it’s alright.”

 

A lump was starting to form in his throat, and his hands started to shake with the effort of not bursting into tears, so she shoved them onto his lap to hide them from her. His eyes burned and stung, but he bit his tongue hard. Crying in front of his teacher was not going to solve anything, and would just earn him a trip to the Counselor’s office, and school hadn’t even started yet. He didn’t want to go there now.

 

“I do,” she said after he continued to say nothing. “Have children that is. I have two boys. They’re older than you, Dean is...oh goodness….I suppose Dean would be in his thirties now, and Sam is twenty-eight… But I haven’t seen either of them in a long time. That’s why I was so defensive, I’m sorry Castiel, I really am.”

 

He nodded quickly. “Okay,” he whispered.

 

“Can I ask why you asked?”

 

Telling her that he had met Dean at a chemo facility was probably not the best idea, but he wasn’t sure what to say instead either. Luckily for him, more students were filing in, and someone was asking for her, and their problem seemed more urgent than his, so she had no choice but to leave him at his desk. He didn’t look up again.

 

☣☢☣☢

 

Castiel chose not to say anything to Gabriel on the way to chemo, nor did he say anything when he got out; Gabe would be back in an hour after he finished as usual, so Castiel walked inside alone this time. He kept his eyes on the ground, unless he had to make eye contact with a nurse, and then he was fixated on the floor afterwards. The no-nonsense nurse took him back to the seat he had sat in before and prepped him for receiving the IV. It was quiet, and even though she gave him a smile and told him that she’d be back in an hour, he could not bring himself to return the gesture. The temptation to rip the IV right out of his arm was so strong that he almost did it; he didn’t need chemo anymore.

 

The plan was to go home and lock his bedroom door; he had a bunch of pain pills in his drawer from some previous trip to the ER, and he would swallow them one by one. Then, he would just go to sleep. It would be easy, and Gabriel would no longer have to give up his entire life for him. His teachers would not have to put up with his stupid, too personal questions, and the kids at school could find someone else to torment. It would make everyone’s life easier.

 

“What? I don’t get a ‘hi’, not even a ‘Wow you look like shit’?” grumbled a tired voice.

 

Castiel whipped his head around so fast that he was certain he had just given himself whiplash. Dean Winchester was sitting his chair, his head resting along the back, a small smile on his face. “Dean!” he gasped.

 

“Hey, Kid,” he replied with a small smile. “Sorry for not gettin’ back to you right away… They put me in solitary… Thought my chemo was a few days ago but, I was wrong. They couldn’t keep me in there today though, which is nice. I’m thinkin’ I can charm my way outta solitary after this, I hope.”

 

“So, you _did_ get my letter-that-that’s good...I’m sorry you’ve been in solitary though, that sounds awful.” For the moment, Castiel pushed suicide from his mind, and focused on Dean instead, overjoyed to see him… even if the circumstances were not ideal. “How are you? Besides that?”

 

Dean chuckled softly. “I’m alright, I suppose. This chemo is super kickin’ my ass, I don’t know how you can be so damn normal-...ugh..” Dean groaned and shut his eyes, his skin turning a bit green.

 

“You get used to it,” he whispered, feeling truly empathetic. “Are you going to be sick?”

 

“Nah, I’m okay for now, I guess,” Dean said, but his eyes were still closed, and he didn’t look any better.

 

Castiel nodded, even though Dean couldn’t see him. He _wanted_ to tell Dean that he knew his mother, but he kept silent; if she hadn’t seen Dean in a long time, maybe that was for a good reason. Choosing to stay silent would be smart, so Castiel held that tidbit close to his chest. Maybe he would tell him later, when he learned more about Dean.

 

But he was going to swallow pills tonight, right?

 

He then whispered, “Have you ever wanted to die?”

 

One of Dean’s eyes opened. “I’ve been hard on myself, but I’ve never been that low, no….Why? You thinkin’ about doin’ something stupid, Cas? If you are, you stop that right now. You’re too young for that shit.”

 

“I need to get my meds upped...I’ve been feeling bad lately, really bad,” he admitted. Why he was telling Dean this, he didn’t know, it was just easier for him to talk about it to someone he barely knew. “But it’d be good for everyone else… Gabe wouldn’t have to give up his life for me anymore, Ruby could find friends who aren’t a killjoy, the nurses could stop worrying about me all the time-”

 

“Cas.” Dean’s tone was so strong that he looked over in fear. “Killing yourself is not some know-all answer, okay? It’s not an answer at all, it’s just making more problems for the people who love you. Your family cares about you, man. No matter how much you fight, or whatever’s got you feelin’ this low… They still love you. Even when you fuck up so bad, you go to jail for almost ten years. Got it?”

 

Castiel nodded slowly and clenched his shaking hands in weak fists, half believing him and half feeling admonished. “Yeah,” he whispered back in reply. “I get it.”

 

“Good. Now, I’m gonna write you back, so I better hear from you again. Alright?”

 

“Yes, I-I will. I will. You will.”

 

Dean nodded sharply and settled back down, his anger dissipating. “Good. Now come on, ask me a question. You kids are always wanting to know shit, ask me something so we can pass the time here.”

 

“Will you tell me about Sam?” he asked timidly.

 

“Sammy?” Dean smiled. “Sammy’s my little brother. He ain’t little no more though, let me tell ya. He’s six foot five. Super big guy, all muscles, and shit. He could kick my ass, but don’t you tell him I said that, got it?” When he nodded quickly, Dean continued, “It was just me and him, growin’ up. I mean, sure my Dad was around but he wasn’t really _around_ , y’know? Dad was a freakin’ drunk… Sloshed half the time, and the other half he was gone.”

 

“What about your Mom?” he dared to ask.

 

There was a pause and Dean shifted in his seat for a moment. The pause continued.

 

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to offend you or-”

 

“I don’t know about her… She left when I was four,” Dean muttered bitterly. “After Sammy was born, she took off.”

 

Castiel sputtered in surprise, “She left?” Mrs. Winchester didn’t seem like the kind of woman to abandon her children, but that would explain why she hadn’t seen them in years.

 

“Yep. Just took off in the middle of the night,” Dean snapped, and Castiel could tell that this part of the  conversation was over.

 

“So... What does Sam do?”

 

“Sammy’s a lawyer, real smart, he went to Harvard. I got a nerd for a brother.” Dean grinned then, from ear to ear. “He’s a good kid though, I love him to death. I’d do anything for him.”

_Including go to jail_ , Castiel thought. “Yeah?”

 

He nodded and gestured at his outfit. “Yep.”

 

“So… You went to jail for him-”

 

“Yes. Sammy was fuckin’ starving Cas-” Dean was cut off by some old woman shushing him at his bad language, but Dean gave her a dark look and continued forward. “He was starving, because our Dad had been gone for days, we had no money left. I figured if I got the money from the register at the store, I could buy a decent amount of food for once. Sammy could stop being hungry, and I could have some peace of mind… Obviously, that didn’t work out the way I wanted, and I regret it every damn day… I should have just stolen a box of crackers, but I had to get all ambitious.” Dean shook his head. His hand was clenching the arm of the chair so tightly that his knuckles turned white.

 

“...At least he’s okay now,” he pointed out lamely.

 

Dean’s chest rose and fell slowly as he took in some breaths through his nose. His eyes were screwed shut, and he continued to white knuckle the chair. Anger practically fumed off of him like a toxic gas, and Castiel turned his eyes to the clock. They still had quite a bit of time before it was all over, and Dean returned to the jail. Here was to hoping Dean’s good mood would return.

 

“Sorry,” Dean muttered. “I just-…” Dean shook his head and relaxed, clearly changing the subject. “So, how are you, huh? How was that kiss?” Dean opened his eyes and winked at him.

 

Castiel shuddered; the winking caused butterflies to take his stomach by storm. “I um-it was okay, I guess.”

 

Dean grinned, amused now, “Man, first kiss and you couldn’t even really appreciate it… My first kiss was me sitting on a couch with this chick. She was real nice-I was... _totally_ gone for her, you know? But I was too nervous to kiss her, so she leaned over and kiss me. I kissed her with my damn eyes open.” He laughed.

 

“I did too,” Castiel admitted with a shy smile.

 

“Yeah?” There was more amused laughter. “We’re a couple of losers, you know that?”

 

Castiel blushed and ducked his head down. “Yeah, we are.”

 

“Eh, at least you’re cute.”

 

Cute? He was cute? What- Castiel stared at Dean in shock. This - ridiculously gorgeous - man had called him _cute_. What did that even mean? Was he saying that he was adorable like a cat, or was he saying that he was hot as hell and that he wanted to fuck him until they couldn’t walk? Even if it were probably creepy (not to mention illegal) Castiel hoped that Dean had meant the latter. Getting fucked until he couldn’t walk by Dean Winchester sounded _fantastic_.

 

“I wanna be kissed by a boy,” Castiel blurted out loud.

 

Dean raised an eyebrow at him and then smirked. “That ain’t bad,” he said smartly.

 

“Have-have _you_ kissed a boy?” he whispered.

 

Dean leaned over and winked at him, whispering, “And I liked it.”

 

Face heating up, Castiel looked down again, wanting to shift around and wiggle. Dean was a gorgeous _bisexual_ convict…. who was too old for him, but that was how he liked his men. Plus, the scruff was an added hot feature that Castiel wanted to touch and kiss. He knew that his fantasies would have to stay fantasies, but he could at least imagine himself with Dean. “So… are you with anyone now?”

 

“In jail?” Dean snorted.

 

“I didn’t mean it like that-I just-” Words were failing him.

 

“Nah, I don’t have a ‘prison husband’ if that’s what you’re asking. And I don’t have anyone on the outside waiting for me either, thank God. In seven months I’m gonna be a free man… Then I can finally have a clean slate, and play the field again. I miss the game, Cas, I miss it a lot.” Dean ran his hand over his jaw and chin, scratching lightly. “Don’t miss out on dating when you’re young, because I did, and it’s gonna be a pain in the ass to find someone willing to date me now.”

 

“You don’t know that,” Castiel replied. “Someone...someone might come along…” _Like me._

 

“Eh, maybe.” Dean yawned and glanced up at his bag. “Damn, I’m on empty.”

 

As he said it, the nurse walked over to remove the IV from his arm, and his guard was walking in. Clearly, it was time for Dean to go. Castiel stared at him sadly. “Good bye, Dean,” he said.

 

“Bye Cas… Remember what I said earlier, about the letter,” he said firmly.

 

He nodded. “I will. Bye.”

 

Dean sank down into the wheelchair to be wheeled out. “See ya.”

 

Castiel watched the guard and nurse take Dean away and he sighed, slumping back down in his seat. He still had thirty minutes so Castiel shut his eyes and tried to take a nap.

 

☣☢☣☢

 

Gabriel was waiting by the car when the nurse wheeled him out after chemo. Moving quickly to open the door for him, Gabriel helped ease Castiel into his seat, before thanking the nurse, and then they were on their way again. He chose to stare at the outside world, trying to hold back the urge to throw up. Seeing Dean at chemo had made him feel better, but he still couldn't forget the cold words Gabriel had dealt him this morning.

 

“Cas?” Gabriel said quietly to break the silence.

 

“What?” he replied back. His voice was flat and monotone. After Dean had gone, Castiel had felt the life siphon out of him in a slow drain before he it had been time to leave. Now he felt like a flat 2D person who had no feelings or emotions, which was easier than feeling the pain.

 

“I’m really sorry,” his brother whispered. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you like I did this morning… Mrs. Winchester called my phone after you had gone in for chemo, saying she was worried about you, and then she told me that she was sorry if she had upset you that much-but I told her it was my fault you were upset… Cas, what’s going on with you?”

 

The seat squeaked when he slumped down further, pressing his knees against the dashboard. The trees going by helped his nausea roil in his stomach, so he had no choice but to shut his eyes. “I asked her the other day if she had kids, and she got upset, and then she snapped at me, and that’s why I was so upset when you came and picked me up. I feel like shit Gabriel, I ruin everything. Every good relationship I have, I fuck it up, because I’m a fuck up, and I’m just gonna drop out because I’m never gonna be anything more than a wallflower, like you said-”

 

“Cas, that’s _not_ true,” Gabriel snapped vehemently. “I didn’t mean that, I was angry, and I said things that I didn’t mean. You are _not_ a wallflower, you’re a bit shy sometimes, but you are more than that. You are _worth_ more than that, Cas. You’re smart, you’re funny, you’re witty… You are _so_ strong Castiel-”

 

“I’m not!” he yelled, rounding on Gabriel angrily. “I hate it when people tell me that I’m _strong_ , because I’m _not_! I’m not brave, or strong, or metal or whatever else you wanna call me, Gabe! I’m _afraid_. I’m afraid I’m going to die very soon. I only keep breathing half of the time because I don’t want to be the reason you give up. I keep going for you, I don’t do it for me. But I’m not strong, okay? That little girl I knew at the hospital, six years old with stage four cancer- _she_ was strong. She was brave. I’m not those things. _Stop_ telling me I’m strong. It’s a lie.” There were tears rolling down his cheeks in streams, but he couldn’t stop them now, and he didn’t care how ugly he looked snotting all over. “I’m not.”

 

Gabriel’s eyes misted over too, and he pulled the car over so he could take off his seat belt and reach over to unbuckle Castiel’s too. Then, Gabriel pulled Castiel into his arms and held him, rubbing between his shoulder blades in small circles. “Cas, maybe you don’t think you’re strong, but you are. You are one of the strongest and bravest people I know. You keep fighting, Cas.. ad whether that’s for you or me… it’s still you being strong and brave. I love you, Cas, and I’m so sorry I hurt you. You are not worthless or a wallflower… You are wonderful, and I’m so sorry, I’m just _so_ sorry.”

 

Castiel buried his face in Gabriel’s chest to cry; he was tired. His body felt exhausted - and granted that was probably most from the chemo - he still wanted to curl up and never move again. His mind felt just as tired as his body; he was sick of fighting. He was sick of being sick, but he had made Dean a promise, and that promise mattered to him. “I just wanna be better,” he whimpered pathetically. “I’m so _tired_ , Gabriel. I’m sick and tired of everything.”

 

Gabriel swallowed a lump in his throat before pressing a kiss to Castiel’s hair. “I know,” he whispered weakly. His voice wavered on the threat of cracking. “But you gotta keep going, okay? You gotta do it… You can’t do everything for me, Cas.. You gotta do stuff for you, too. You’ve _got_ to, okay? You have to _want_ to live for you… I won’t always be here for you, and you’ve got to learn to want this for yourself.” Gabriel slid his hands over Castiel’s hair lightly. “Do you need another appointment with your therapist? You think that’d help? I know you have a rough time in the fall and winter…”

 

He sniffed. “Yeah.”

 

“Okay. I’ll set one up for you when we get home, okay? You just go lay down and feel better.”

 

Castiel nodded and then they were slowly parting and putting their seat belts back on so they could continue on their way home. The rest of the way home was silent, but Castiel felt better. Gabriel _didn’t_ hate him, his brother still loved him, and that made all of the difference.

 

 


	9. Meetings

The mailbox flag was up.

  
A childlike, bright smile slid into place on Castiel’s face, and he rushed out of the house, barefoot, no coat, and only in his pajamas. He didn’t care that it was nearly freezing today, he just wanted to see if he had received a letter. The mailbox’s contents were mostly bills, but at the bottom of the envelope stack was one addressed to him. His smile widened as he walked back into the house, dropping the bills off on the front table by the door, and then he was running up the stairs. Gabriel was at work, and he was home alone on this chilly Saturday, which made reading and writing this letter in secret easier.

 

When he finished reading, Castiel turned his eyes to his bookshelves. He had a myriad of novels but he wasn’t sure if any of them would be deemed _appropriate_ by the prison system, but it wouldn’t hurt to try at least. He ended up choosing a copy of _The Maze Runner_ and _Ender’s Game_. They were both good, quick reads. Once Dean finished those, he would send him others; he would try to only send books he had duplicates of, or ones he could buy cheap online. The only problem now was finding a box to send them in and make sure it was wrapped up properly. Walking to the local mall center would be easy, but he was really starting to regret not having his license. Driving scared him, more than anything else, and he hadn’t biked in years. Crashing would be inevitable, so walking would have to do.

 

He would write his letter first, stuff it in an envelope, grab his books, and then take it all uptown. The post office would have boxes, he would just have to use his “Rainy Day Fund” jar for the cash to buy the boxes. After the letter was written, addressed, and stamped, Castiel left Gabriel a note on the fridge. Surely, he would beat Gabriel back home, but just in case he didn’t, Gabriel would at least know where he had gone. “I’ll be back guys,” he told the cats, who had followed him down the stairs.

 

Sunny voiced her protest, but he was already going out the door, making sure to lock the door behind as he went. The wind bit into his skin as soon as he cleared the neighborhood, since the houses had done a fairly good job as barriers. Soon, he was shivering and shaking, his teeth chattering so violently that he was just waiting for one to go flying out of his mouth from being knocked loose. Castiel shoved his hands in his pockets and began to curse this idea; he should have just called Ruby, she probably would have given him a ride. The temperature was unseasonably cold, with the bitter wind making it even worse; his face was raw by the time he reached the intersection.

 

He still had half a mile to go. This had not been well thought out. Up ahead there was a coffee shop, he would stop there and warm up for a bit before continuing onward to the post office, he decided. Avoiding some ice, Castiel pumped his legs briskly to stay warm, and to reach his destination as fast as possible. When he pulled the door open, the smell of roasting coffee made his mouth water. Coffee would be warm, to go along with the heated overpacked room, so Castiel at the back of the line and waited, rubbing his hands together to warm them up. He didn’t recognize anyone in the shop, which wasn’t surprising, even with his outings with Ruby he still didn’t exactly get out much. There was a man crammed at a table much too small for him that drew Castiel’s eyes; he was hunched over his laptop, his entire hand spanning the keyboard when he typed. Long, dark hair fell in his face, but when the barista called _Winchester_ , the man looked up.

 

Castiel gasped. Was that _Sam_ Winchester? The large man stood up, and Castiel’s followed him up, and _up_ until he was gaping at the man’s height. It had to be Sam, there no other explanation. Sam returned to his seat, coffee in his hand, and then he was putting his laptop away. This would be his only chance, and even though he was only one person away from ordering, Castiel slid out of line and walked up to Sam at his table. “Excuse me?” he said quietly.

 

Sam glanced up at him, bent over to collect his bag. “Yeah?”

 

“I’m sorry to bother you but… are you _Sam_ Winchester?” He began to worry his bottom lip with his teeth, nervous for the answer.

 

Sam slowly straightened to his ridiculously tall height and stuffed his laptop into his bag. “Yeah? Who are you?”

 

“I’m Castiel-I-I know your brother, sort of…” Castiel took a step back, and then shifted around nervously. This had been a bad idea. He shouldn’t have bothered Sam.

 

“Castiel? Wait- are you that kid he writes to?” Sam asked then, suddenly interested.

 

“Yes,” he replied. He wanted to speak quietly but since it was so loud, he had to keep his voice raised. “I am… I was on my way to mail him some things, but it’s very cold, so I came in here.. and then-I didn’t want to pass up the opportunity to meet you,” Castiel babbled quickly. He tended to babble when he grew nervous. “Even though I was next in line… I just wanted to say hello. I feel like I sort of know you, but I know I don’t, I’m sorry-”

 

“Hey, it’s okay.” Sam smiled and then sank back down into his seat, gesturing for Castiel to sit opposite him. “Have a seat.”

 

Castiel practically fell into the chair, muttering an apology, and settling his stuff on the small table along with Sam’s. There was now a mountain of books and leather bags between them. It made this meeting more awkward. “Hi,” he finally said again, still feeling stupid for bothering the poor man.

 

Sam offered his giant hand over the pile of belongings. “It’s nice to put a face to what Dean tells me.”

 

Sam’s hand swallowed his own, but Castiel shook hands with as much firmness as he could muster. “Yes, same.”

 

“Dean said you were young but… I guess I never thought on _how_ young. I mean, thank you for talking to Dean, and writing him, that’s very kind of you, I’m just sorry it’s because of… you know.” Sam gestured at him and then rubbed the back of his neck.

 

“Cancer,” Castiel supplied helpfully. “You can say it, it’s okay, I know I have cancer.”

 

“Yeah, cancer…” Sam sighed, shaking his head. “Like I said, thanks for writing him. He looks forward to your letters often.”

 

“I do too… Look forward to his letters that is. Your brother is very kind.”

 

“Yeah, he is.”

 

Some silence followed. Castiel wanted to tell Sam that he knew _why_ Dean had gone to jail, but some part of him reminded him that that felt like private information. Probably information he shouldn’t have known, since he was not a part of their family. Sam did not need to know that he knew about their abusive father, but Castiel wanted to ask about Mrs. Winchester; it was probably due to the fact that he didn’t feel as connected to Sam as he did Dean, so he didn’t care all that much if Sam grew upset over the matter.

 

“Sam, can I ask you a question?”

 

Sam nodded as he took a sip of his coffee, “Mhm.”

 

“Do you know where your mother is?” The words galloped out of his mouth but it felt as if they had crawled out, hanging onto his tongue with every inch of their lives. “Because I do.”

 

Sam stared at him, seeming bewildered; his face had lost some color, now more gaunt and drawn out than before. His eyes that seemed to change color with every shift of the light, grayed out, his pupils dilating in shock, and his jaw fell open slightly. Just enough to convey his surprise. Sam gaped, “You what?”

 

“She’s my teacher… I could tell her… something for you. If you want, that is.” Castiel fiddled with his scarf. This was also probably not a good idea, considering how his relationship with Mrs. Winchester was not exactly solid at the moment, but it felt right to offer this to Sam. “Your number, address… a message. Anything.”

 

Sam fought for words before fumbling around in his bag to pull out a little notepad, his shaking hands making him drop the pen he reached for a few times, before he could finally hold it firmly to write. He scribbled furiously along the page, the sound of paper being ripped from its binding, and then he handed him the message. “Will you give her that? Please?”

 

Castiel quickly folded up the little notebook paper, stuffed it into the inside pocket of his coat, and then nodded. “Yes.” Every fiber of his being told him to read it, but that was a private message, and he had no right to just open it up and read it, especially not right in front of Sam.

 

“Thank you, Castiel.”

 

“You can call me Cas, everyone else does.” He shrugged.

 

“Castiel is a nice name,” Sam replied. “You said you were on your way to mail some stuff?”

 

“Yeah, I was.”

 

“I’ll give you a lift.”

 

Castiel wanted to rejoice out loud. Now he did not have to go back into the cold. “Thank you,” he replied. Together, they gathered their belongings, and made their way to the post office.

 

 

 

☣☢☣☢

 

“He thinks he can get away with whatever he fucking wants to,” Dean muttered to Benny. They were working in the laundry room today, folding towels and uniforms. It was boiling hot, sweaty, and dingy in the laundry room; they had had a good run in the kitchen, but Gordon and his pack of snitches had made it look like _they_ were bringing in contraband. He and Benny, along with the rest of their crew, had been booted from the kitchens to run the laundry room. Gordon had promised him a regime change, and it had started. Honestly, paranoia claimed him every day. They never went anywhere alone, not even to the bathrooms. It was a war zone.

 

“It’s gonna start gettin’ bloody if they don’t reign him in, he’s always been a power freak,” Benny replied. “I already got threatened with solitary this mornin’, and that was just for walking too damn slow. I don’t know what’s up the guards asses lately, but brother, be glad you’re leavin’ right quick.”

 

Dean snorted. “Not quick enough.” He did feel sorry for Benny, being a lifer, but once he was out Dean had promised him that he would go down to Louisiana and visit his old family diner, and gladly return with a report on how things were going, since his family didn’t tell him anything.

 

Benny gave him a _look_ , a look that read he was done with Dean’s bitching, before muttering, “Quicker than some.”

 

He flinched and set a towel down. “Sorry man, I shouldn’t have-...Sorry.”

 

Benny shrugged his shoulders. “Eh, don’t worry about it brother, I did what I did, and now I gotta serve my time. Even if the fucker deserved it.”

 

No one asked Benny what he did to land in the slammer, and even he didn’t know. He was Benny’s best friend - his brother-in-arms even - but he hadn’t even had the courage to ask what had put Benny away. But now that Benny had said _that_ , he couldn’t stop the question from leaving his mouth. “What’d you do?”

 

The silence that happened after - minus the running machines - made Dean hold his breath. Had he just fucked up? Probably.

 

“I shot a man,” Benny finally said, his voice flat.

 

Dean blinked. Part of him was not surprised that Benny was in for murder, but then the other part shocked him into silence. _Benny_? Murdering someone? Lafitte was a guy you didn’t mess with, sure, but he was also a giant teddy bear. Deep down of course - _way_ deep down. “You… You killed someone?”

 

“I shot a man that deserved to die,” Benny snapped, “not that the courts saw it that way.”

 

“Who was he? Did you know him?”

 

“Oh, I knew him,” Benny growled. “Name’s Patrick… we called him “The Old Man”- he murdered my wife. No one could prove it though but… well I knew it was him.” Benny paused and wiped his eyes on his arm. “He always had it out for me, and he killed my wife in cold blood, so I tracked that son of a bitch down and I shot him… I shot him twenty-seven times.”

 

Dean stared at Benny; he had never seen his friend become so emotional before, but if someone had went and shot Sam, he would have gladly shot the son of a bitch twenty-seven times too. Probably more… probably after he tortured the fucker first. “And, did your wife’s murder ever get solved?”

 

Benny slammed his fists down on the work table, disturbing all of their work. “They said _I_ did it, but I’d never hurt my wife. I _loved_ Andrea. It’s why I’ve got such a long sentence… No parole. They said if I could shoot a man, then I surely could kill my wife too.”

 

Feeling daring, Dean slid a hand to Benny’s shoulder, giving it a firm squeeze. “I’m sorry, Benny… Once I’m outta here, I’ll see if Sam will look at your case. I’m sure he would.”

 

“No use,” Benny muttered.

 

“You don’t know that,” Dean snarled at him, trying to bring some life back into Benny’s spirit. “Would your wife want you in here rotting away for something you _didn’t_ do?”

 

“No.”

 

“Exactly… Now, you’ve done so much for me, I’m gonna do what I can to help you when I get out of here. I’ve got seven more months, we just gotta stay alive for seven more, got it?” He wished that that was a joke, but they both knew it wasn’t, not with Gordon and his Reign of Terror running the joint. Benny gave him a nod, and slowly they returned to their work, no longer feeling the need to talk.

 

Dean turned inwards; he thought on Castiel, hoping to hear from the kid soon. The letters he received were what kept him going most of the time now; that and his visits from Sam, but those visits were once a week, and Castiel’s letters tied him over after each visit. Especially since he could reread the letters as much as he wanted. Their last visit had left him worried, and he could only hope and pray that he heard from him soon.

 

“Winchester.”

 

Dean glanced up at Rufus as he appeared. “Yeah?”

 

“Singer wants to see you. Now.”

 

Dean nodded and handed Benny the last towel, quickly wiping his hands on his pants so he could follow Rufus back up to Bobby Singer’s office. Bobby was his CO, and this was either really terrible news, or good news, there was never an in between with the man. Rufus dropped him off  at the office door, and Dean knocked on it lightly before poking his head in. “You wanted to see me?”

 

“Yeah, c’mon in.” Bobby gestured at the chair in front of his desk. “Shut the door.”

 

Shutting the door, Dean walked over to sit down, his stomach twisting into knots. He cleared his throat but Bobby just stared at him, so eventually Dean sat on his hands so he couldn’t fidget, and turned his eyes to his knees. Bobby always made him feel like a kid, no matter how old he got.

 

“Got another letter today,” Bobby finally broke the silence.

 

Dean jerked his head up and immediately held out his hands for the envelope like a child told that their parents had a candybar for them. “C’mon Bobby… “

 

Bobby smirked and handed the letter over. “Figured, with the problems you’ve had with Walker lately I’d hand deliver your mail to ya, ya damn idjit.”

 

He smiled and nodded thankfully. “Thanks, Bobby. I appreciate it. There isn’t any way you could get his ass transferred for the next seven months, is there?”

 

A small smirk passed over Bobby’s lips. “We’ll see, Winchester. Now get outta here.”

 

“Thanks.” Dean stood, the letter clutched in his hands, to walk out the door. Once he was away from Bobby’s office, Dean made a beeline for his bunk, which was the only haven he had from Gordon and his punk followers. Glancing around, Dean looked to see if he was alone, before ripping the envelope open, opening the pages, and scanning them over with a thrill in his heart:

 

 

 

Castiel had written him a long letter this time; Dean did a quick count of the pages. Five. That made him smile. He would have to return the favor.

 

 

_Your friend_.

 

Castiel had signed it - _your friend_. The notion made butterflies spawn in Dean’s stomach, which was silly. The kid was seventeen and he was too old for him. Even if he _had_ written on liking older men - it would not be appropriate for him to strike up a relationship with Castiel. The thought of Castiel being legal soon - five days - did make his loins ache. He hadn’t gotten laid in ten years; he had refused to have sex in prison on the count of he had no idea what he could catch in here, and Benny had kept him from being gang raped.

 

_Stop thinking about Castiel in a sexual way  - he just said he was not really into the sex thing, goddamn it, get it together Winchester_. _At least wait five days when he’s legal and then you can jerk it out in the shower without feeling as dirty._

 

Dean stuffed the letter away where he kept the others and sat on his hands, rocking back and forth a few times. There was a fire blooming in his groin, and he was alone for now, but it was the middle of the day; he did not need to be caught literally with his pants down and unaware. Castiel considered him a _friend_ , and friends did not think about their friends naked… and he was underage. He was jailbate. Even as a fantasy he felt wrong, but what grown man didn’t think about younger partners?

 

_Stop that. Stop it. You’re being a perv Winchester, a_ perv _. So stop_.

 

His dick did not want him to stop. “Fuck, c’mon Winchester, get it together-” Dean glanced down at the erection growing in his pants. Embarrassment and shame made his face heat up to what felt like a few thousand degrees. “ _No_.” Immediately, Dean drove his mind away from the gutter at warp speed and tried to picture something gross - like Sam banging his girlfriend. Sam fucking her naked. Sam-yeah that did it.

 

He sighed, slowly easing back down on his cot, pressing the letter to his forehead. He was going straight to Hell.

 

☣☢☣☢

 

“Happy Birthday!!!!” Ruby screamed at him when he rounded the corner in the hallway. The ruckus made several people turn to stare, but Castiel ignored them and simply continued on his way.

 

“Thanks,” he said with a smile once he reached her.

 

“Ugh, I can’t believe you’re legal before me. _Lame_.” She rolled her eyes playfully but then her smile returned; Castiel knew she was kidding. “Are you doing anything special this weekend? Or are you gonna be a lameass and do _nothing_.”

 

“Gabe is taking me to Washington D.C., actually. We’re going Friday, and we’ll be back on Wednesday. I’ve always wanted to see the museums and buildings and stuff… I never got to do the eighth grade trip, and he promised for my eighteenth birthday that we would go.”

 

“Dude, that’s awesome- I mean it’s _nerdy_ , but you’re nerdy, so I can see why you’d wanna go. I bet you’re gonna blow all your money on books.” Ruby grinned. “I don’t blame you, I would too if I didn't love clothes so much. I hope you have fun, and I hope it’s not too crowded. I’m sure it won’t be, it’s probably too cold for that, and it’s not like right _at_ Thanksgiving, you know?”

 

He nodded and shut her locker for her when her arms became too laden. “Yeah, I’m excited. I just hope we can go and not have some… medical problem happen.”

 

“Don’t think of it like that! Just picture all of the _fun_ you are going to have,” Ruby said quickly as they continued down the hall towards home room together. “I’m glad you’re _smiling_ again, like I was getting super worried about you. So I’m glad that you seem happier.”

 

“I think just _knowing_ that my meds are adjusted helps. Plus, getting out of the house for almost a week is nice too. We also got a super nice hotel. My grandma had a bunch of money set aside for me, for my medicine and stuff, but she also had a ‘Rainy Day Fund’ that we’ve never touched before, since going places is usually out of the question for me… but we finally get to use some of the money. It’s nice.” Castiel dug around in his jeans to remove the note that Sam had given him. Mrs. Winchester was at her desk, as usual, so Castiel walked up to her and set it down without a word. He didn’t know what it said, and he didn’t want to be questioned. Ruby gave him a raised eyebrow but he ignored her.

 

After they sat down, Castiel turned to glance at Mrs. Winchester, who was now reading the note he had left, unable to help it. He had wanted to read the note before giving it to her but it wasn’t his business, so he had refrained. One of her hands covered her mouth, and there were tears in her eyes, whatever it said, he hoped it was at least nice. Maybe he should have read it first.

 

“Um-I’ll be back-I-. I’ll be right back-.” Mrs. Winchester stood, walking around in a circle first, before finding her phone, and walking out of the room as if her dress was on fire.

 

“Dude, what did you _give_ her?” Ruby asked.

 

Castiel shrugged slightly. “A note from her son.” He ignored Ruby’s questions afterwards, and simply started copying the notes on the board.

 

☣☢☣☢

 

He hadn’t seen Sam in a week, something had come up - something important - but he was here today, and Dean was chomping at the bit to figure out what had happened that was so important. He hoped it was good news pertaining his case. The visitation room was packed but Dean scanned the tables until his eyes fell on Sam and-

 

A flood of air filled his lungs and his legs locked up on the spot. The guards were telling him to keep moving but he hardly heard them. Sun shining on blonde hair made his stomach drop to the floor; her face had aged but he still recognized her, even if her image had almost faded from his memory. His mother sat next to Sam, her hands clenched tightly together on the table they sat at. Sam was talking to her, his hand on her arm, but Dean could not bring himself to move. Not until someone prodded him in the back and he came forward a few steps until he could walk over and slowly sink down into the chair opposite them. He wore his face as a stoic and cold mask.

 

“Dean,” Sam said with a small smile. “Sorry I wasn’t here last week, I hope you can understand.”

 

Dean kept his eyes on his brother. Anger was brewing right beneath the surface of his skin, making him itchy; he wanted to claw right through his arms to release the steam that built right beneath the surface. “Yeah,” he said, his voice flat and cold.

 

His mother looked at him, her eyes rimmed red, as if she had already been crying. “Honey, you look so handsome-”

 

“Yeah? Orange my color?” he quipped back, snide.

 

“Dean, c’mon,” Sam muttered.

 

“What Sam? What should I _c’mon_? Should I be nice? Should I pretend like she didn’t leave us for our entire lives? You can pretend all you want Sam, I can’t do that.” The anger had bursted through a bubble, but after Rufus gave him a warning look, he settled down again. “You proud of your son, Ma?” he asked, his voice lower but still icy. “Proud that I went to jail to keep Sammy fed?”

 

“Dean,” Sam growled. “Stop.”

 

“No, it’s alright Sam,” his mother said, her hands reaching out to him slightly. “Dean has every right to be angry. Honey, I know you’re mad at me for leaving you and Sam… But I was young, Dean. I was young, afraid, and I had no means of caring for you. I couldn’t bring you with me, it would have been reckless-”

 

“You leaving us with an alcoholic douchebag was reckless,” he replied. Dean clenched his hands into fists and set his jaw.

 

“Your father was an abusive man,. He beat me more than you ever knew. I couldn’t live there at the house anymore. I _had_ to leave, I was afraid for my life… and I couldn’t bring you or Sam. You were both too young, and I had nothing. I left with the clothes on my back. Nothing more. I’m sorry Dean, I’m so sorry.” She covered her face and wiped her eyes, which were tearing. “I wish I could have taken you boys with me. Maybe you wouldn’t be in here if I had had that chance.”

 

Dean looked away to glare out the window. His lower lip was starting to tremble with the effort of not crying. John Winchester was in his head, telling him that crying was for wimps and babies, and his son was not a wimp or a baby. He hardly ever cried; it was a sign of weakness, but the effort to hold back felt taxing. He wiped his eyes angrily and glared down at the table. “Yeah, maybe,” he muttered. “Maybe not. Dad always did say I was a bad seed.”

 

“Dean,” his mother whispered. “No. Oh Honey, _no_. You are not a bad boy, you’ve never been bad. Not ever. You were always good, so smart, and so kind. I love you so much. Your father was _wrong_ about so many things. Especially about you. You are not a bad son, you never were.”

 

Dean turned teary eyes back on her. “I have cancer, Mom.” From the look on her face, Sam hadn’t told her about the leukemia; it was like he had slapped at one hundred miles per hour.

 

“You what?” she gasped.

 

“I have leukemia. Been gettin’ chemo for a few months now.” He wanted to say everything with a controlled, stoic, straight face but his voice was failing him. His mother was _back_ and he had cancer; it was a bittersweet moment. Cancer really did ruin everything. He watched his mother cover her mouth in both hands and Sam had to slide an arm around her shoulders to comfort her as she began to cry. The hardest part - whether they had had rough times or not - was that he couldn’t go to her and do the same; he could not comfort her with a hug, or console her with a kiss to her forehead, to tell her that he was going to be fine. He had to stay on his side of the table, which was a cruel and evil injustice. “I’m gonna be okay, Ma.”

 

“Of course you are,” she said, her voice trembling and broken. “You’re a Winchester- a very strong and charismatic young man, I’m sure you’ll charm that cancer right out of your body.”

 

“How did you find us?” Dean asked.

 

“A student of mine… Um, Castiel Novak? He had a note from your brother-I hadn’t had a chance to really ask about it-” Mary turned confused eyes on Sam, and then realization passed over Dean’s. _Castiel_.

 

“Cas? Cas the-the kid who writes to me, you know him?” he asked.

 

“Well, yes, he’s a student of mine,” she repeated.

 

The stars had aligned somewhere in the universe to make this all come together, there was no other explanation. It couldn’t have been chance that he had met Castiel that day in chemo, or that he had been integrated into their lives. He was going to have to thank the little punk when he saw him again. He smiled then, feeling better than before. “So, Ma, what’s been going on with you?”

 

☣☢☣☢

 

 


	10. Everything to Lose

“Castiel. Wake up.”

 

The bed jerked. Khoshekh dug his claws into his thigh and Sunny bolted. Castiel jumped, which sent the kitten flying and rushing to hide. Gabriel did not look happy. Well, this was one way to start the weekend. “Yeah?” he asked groggily, wiping some goop from his eyes.

 

“What is this?” Gabriel waved an envelope in the air, as if he could figure it via osmosis.

 

“What is _what_?” he quipped back, his voice on the edge of annoyance. Gabriel tossed the envelope at him, and Castiel scrambled to catch it, his sleep bleary eyes slowly focusing. It was a letter from Dean. “...It’s a letter,” he answered slowly.

 

“Yes, I see that. It says it’s from an _inmate_ ,” Gabriel snapped. “Why the hell are writing to some person in _jail_? And how long have you been sneaking around about it?!”

 

“It’s not like I’m sending the guy bad stuff, Gabe! I met him at chemo,” he snapped, “and he was really nice, so I started writing him letters, just in case I never saw him again. And he _likes_ them because it’s not like he gets them that freaking often. _This_ is why I never told you, because I knew you would overreact.”

 

“This is not an overreaction, trust me,” Gabriel replied angrily. “You should have _told_ me so I wasn’t so damn blindsided! God, no _wonder_ you’ve been getting the mail before me every day. I should ground your or something…”

 

Castiel could tell Gabriel was losing his conviction; he just needed to play the puppy eyes up a bit. “It’s not a bad thing, Gabe. I’m making a guy’s day, and he’s not a murderer or a rapist or anything… He was trying to keep his brother from _starving_ , so he… attempted to rob a store, okay? He’s getting out soon, and he’s a really nice guy. Can I please keep writing him?”

 

Gabriel sighed, slowly sinking down onto the bed. “Yeah, you can keep writing him.”

 

Castiel threw his arms around Gabriel tightly. “Thank you! Thank you!”

 

Gabriel patted him on the back a few times, “Yeah, yeah… No more secrets, got it?”

 

He nodded. “Okay.”

 

“I’ll let you read your letter now.”

 

“Thanks Gabe.” He smiled as Gabriel retreated, and then he was tearing into the letter eagerly. Worry had made his shoulders and neck stiff; Mrs. Winchester had thanked him for giving her the note, and told him that she would be hopefully visit Dean soon. The fear that Dean would be angry with him had plagued him throughout the trip to D.C. (which had been fun nevertheless) but he had been worrying about this letter ever since they had returned. It was dated the sixteenth, ten days after his birthday, and it was now Thanksgiving break, the twenty-third to be exact. Thursday was Thanksgiving, but Visitation Day was Wednesday.

 

Dean had asked him to visit.

 

Castiel wondered what the likelihood Gabriel would take him to visit Dean, since Gabriel seemed to only see him as a criminal. He would just have to assure Gabe that everything was _safe_ , and Dean was not a psycho trying to lure him into some trap. Visiting Dean, right before Thanksgiving, sounded like a great treat for both of them. Even if he would be visiting him in jail. The only thing he could do is ask, so Castiel slid out of bed, called to the cats, but they didn’t reappear. He would apologize later.

 

“Gabriel!” he called as he rushed down the stairs. The floor was slick as he skidded to a stop in front of his brother in the kitchen. “I have to ask you something.” Gabriel tilted his head so he continued, “Dean wants me to visit him, and I was wondering if I could go-”

 

“To the jail?” Gabriel asked.

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Cas-”

 

“ _Please_? It’s safe. There will be guards there, please? I’d take myself but I can’t, so _please_ will you take me on Wednesday?” Once again, Castiel pulled out the puppy eyes. They usually worked, and it was not as if he ever asked for anything.

 

Gabriel sighed. “Fine.”

 

“Thank you.”

 

“Just tell me when.”

 

He nodded and turned to dash right back up the steps. The cats had finally started to creep out but as soon as Castiel bursted into his room, they dashed right back into hiding. He owed them catnip for at least a week.

 

☣☢☣☢

 

The jail was more intimidating on the outside than the inside in Castiel’s opinion, with its barbed wire fences and cold brick face, but then again he was not truly seeing the _inside_ of the jail, only the front entrance and the visitation room. Gabriel had allowed him to go in by himself since he was now eighteen, which had impressed him. Castiel was thrilled to see Dean face to face outside of chemo. The guards had led him in with the others visiting, and he had been placed at a table by the window. It was barred but Castiel ignored that fact and simply focused on waiting for Dean to walk in.

 

The woman had given him a name tag to wear, so the guards could ID him and they could keep track of his whereabouts when inside. Not that he was going to _do_ anything, what _could_ he do anyway? He hardly weighed much, and he was not exactly _strong_. No break-out heists would be happening in Dean’s future, at least not from him specifically. The prisoners began to file in and Castiel wanted to get up and hug Dean, but he wasn’t sure if that were allowed, nor was he sure if Dean enjoyed physical contact… but he _really_ wanted to figure out if Dean was well built or not.

 

Dean was last to come in, his eyes scanned the room until they landed on Castiel, who waved. Dean’s face lit up in a huge smile before he walked over to sit down in the opposite chair. “Hey Cas,” Dean greeted. “Glad you’re here.”

 

“I brought your letter,” Castiel said. “I asked the lady at the front if it was okay to give it to you, and they had to read it first, but I have it. So you don’t have to wait on the mail.”

 

He nodded. “Awesome.” Dean held out his hand, so Castiel passed the envelope over, his eyes scanning the callouses along Dean’s palms; he had handsome hands. “What?” Dean asked, suddenly paranoid.

 

“Wh-oh nothing. Sorry-I just… You have very lovely hands,” he said sincerely, raising his eyes up to meet Dean’s kindly. “They look like they’re the right amount of soft and rough.”

 

A blush bloomed from the tips of Dean’s ears to his cheeks. He had a handsome blush too. “Well, uh- Thank you, Cas. I think.”

 

He wanted to squeal out loud; he had made Dean blush and fluster, like a schoolboy. _He_ had made that happen, and he had always been convinced that he did not have a single suave bone in his body. “You’re welcome. So, what do you want to talk about?” he asked, laying his hands on the table like he was supposed to.

 

Dean shrugged. “Anything you want to talk about.”

 

“Sam told me that he’s made some good progress on your case, did he tell you that?” He had hope that Dean would be out sooner than expected, and that had made Castiel happy. He had written about it in his letter, but since he was _here_ , he might as well mention it.

 

“He didn’t, but that’s good,” Dean said. “I mean if he thinks he’s gonna get me out early, he’s dead wrong. I did what I did, I gotta serve it out. Almost six more months, I’ll be fine.”

 

“But if you got out early, that’d be even _better_ ,” Castiel pointed out. “Sam said he doesn’t live far from my house, since he gave me a ride back and all, meaning _you_ wouldn’t be far from my house, and we could like.. hang out and stuff. If you wanted. I mean, I know I’m just a kid and stuff, but I like talking to you- and Sam said you like video games. Well, I do too.”

 

Dean smiled kindly. “I _do_ love video games,” he admitted with a nod. “Hey, as long as your brother is okay with us hanging out, I won’t protest. Even if I do get stared at kinda funny in public.”

 

Castiel tilted his head to the side. “Why?” he asked, and then stopped himself. “ _Oh_ … Right. I’m-eighteen and you are not eighteen.”

 

“Tag on fourteen more years, Cas,” Dean said with a wink.

 

Castiel had never really considered Dean’s age to be a problem, at least not until Gabriel had voiced concern. Of course, he had an age kink that no one knew about. Seeing something _wrong_ with having a crush on Dean was nonexistent in his mind. He was legal, and that was all that mattered to him. Young girls could sleep with old men and get away with it, why couldn’t he have a crush on Dean? The real problem was finding a way to _tell_ him.

 

“So?” he managed finally. “I don’t care.” There, he had told Dean he didn’t mind their age difference, and clearly Dean understood because he gave him a look of surprise. “Older men are more fun to talk to anyway.”

 

“You think so, huh?” Dean asked slowly. There was a moment where Dean looked unsure, as if he were about to test the waters, but then he visibly stopped himself with a shake of his head. The silent conversation played over his face, and Castiel _knew_. He knew that Dean wanted to _ask_ , about them, moving this relationship forward. But he stopped himself. “So, tell me about the outside world. What’s going on? I try to stay current but it’s hard in here.”

 

“The outside world is still as crazy as it was when you got locked up,” he replied smoothly, which made Dean smirk slightly. “You were about to ask me something, weren’t you?”

 

“When?” Dean asked.

 

“Just now,” Castiel replied. “You’re kind of an open book.”

 

Dean shook his head quickly and glanced at the clock. “You don’t know what you’re talkin’ about, Ca-”

 

“I think I know what you were going to ask me but you feel wrong, don’t you? Because I’m still in high school and you’re an adult. You feel… pervy, or something-” Dean cut him off with a death glare and Castiel shut up quickly. “Sorry…”

 

“Not right now, Cas,” was Dean’s muttered reply. “Okay?” He gave a pointed glance around the room at all of the ears and eyes.

 

“They would just read about it in the letter anyway,” Castiel replied. “Why not right now?”

 

Dean’s face heated up again. “Because, I don’t think you know what you want, and I’m still in here. That’s why… Look, if you wanna… talk about it when I’m out, then fine. We can discuss it when I’m out. Alright?”

 

He nodded. “Fine.” Castiel sat back with exasperation, only then realizing he had Dean had leaned in so close that he could have counted Dean’s freckles. He wanted that scruff between his thighs.

 

“I still think we should wait a couple’a years,” Dean whispered. “You’d be twenty-”

 

“What’s that gonna do?” Castiel hissed back.

 

“You’d be older… It’d be easier to justify in my head.” An uncomfortable silence fell over them both before Dean ran a hand over his face, as if he were tired. When he spoke again, his voice sounded haggard, “Cas, you’re barely eighteen. At least wait until you graduate _high school_. Jesus, I already feel like a freak. And you said you were-you know-... asexual, or whatever. What happened to that?”

 

Castiel shrugged. “I don’t know, I don’t think about sex that much. Except when I think about you, and then I think about it all of the time. I don’t _know_ , okay? Why does that even matter?”

 

“Because we shouldn’t be having this conversation at all. God, I feel like Hugh Hefner.” Dean rubbed the back of his neck. “Okay, that’s an exaggeration-but we are _not_ having this conversation right now. We’re gonna wait until I get out, alright? We are friends. Just friends. That’s it. That is how our letters are gonna go, as friends.”

 

Castiel snorted, “Friends who want to have sex.” He smiled when Dean blushed and rammed his knee into the table. The end of their session was drawing near, and he wanted to know if he was allowed to hug Dean; probably not, but he could try for a quick one anyway. The guards were having the inmates gather to leave, but Castiel stood and hugged Dean hard and fast. The motion made Dean jerk but he squeezed like his life depended on it; he received a quick pat in return, and then the guards were snapping at them to step back, so they had to part.

 

“Bye Cas,” Dean said with a melancholy wave.

 

Castiel returned the gesture and the sad eyes. “Bye,” he whispered. After Dean left, Castiel checked out with the others, and then he was back out to the parking lot where Gabriel waited on him. He would _not_ be telling Gabriel about his desire to fuck a criminal. That would just be _asking_ for trouble.

 

“How was it?” Gabriel asked.

 

Castiel buckled his seatbelt and smiled. “Great.” He glanced back at the jail. “Really, really great.”

 

☣☢☣☢

 

Friends did not think about their friends while in the shower. Friends also did not picture their friends kneeling on a shower floor (not this one, this one was gross, but a clean one) sucking their dicks. Friends did not have to bite back moans as they fisted their cocks in their soapy hand when thinking about their friends, and the kinds of noises they may make during sex. But Dean was not a good friend, so he was doing all of the above while taking a quick shower. The bathroom was empty and he was taking advantage of this fact to have some alone time. He had waited for Castiel to turn eighteen to fantasize, but he still felt dirty, no matter how much he washed his skin.

 

But his toes curled into his slower shoes and he slammed his fist against the wall when he came, a low groan escaping at last. He tried to aim for the drain so it would all wash away. There was a noise and Dean dared to look over his shoulder, and he blinked in surprise at the kid that was standing in the bathroom by his stall, his eyes wide and his skin white as a sheet. Dean wanted to snort; leave it to newbies to watch him jerk it. “What do you want, Kid?” he asked as he started to rinse off.

 

“I’m real sorry,” the kid said.

 

Dean rolled his eyes and reached to shut the water off. “Yeah, whatever-” He gasped when something sharp entered his side. The kid was trying to fucking _shank_ him. Dean spun around and grabbed the kid by the throat, slamming his head hard into the wall. “Who the _fuck_ do you think you are, punk?!” Blood was running down his side in a hot rivulet but wherever the kid had been aiming, he had missed anything vital.

 

“G-G-Gordon sent me,” the kid stammered.

 

The smell of urine filled Dean’s nose. The kid had pissed himself. “You need to retake anatomy class, _bitch_ ,” he snarled fiercely. He would need to go to medical but he wasn’t going to drop dead either. “I got seven more fucking months or I’d teach you a damn lesson. Be lucky I want outta here.”

 

The terrified kid nodded, and Dean let him go, grabbing his towel to wrap around his body so he could staunch the bleeding and redress. Gordon wanted a war. Dean stormed his way down to Bobby’s office and banged on the door until the old man answered.

 

“Jesus, what happened to you?” Bobby demanded.

 

Dean clutched his side, breathing heavily through his nose. “Walker.”

 

☣☢☣☢

 

“So, you’re not sure if you’re ace or if you’re gay… if you’re ace and happen to have a painfully homo crush on this guy,” Ruby said slowly as she chewed on a gummy worm. “Right?”

 

He nodded pathetically. They were video chatting late Thanksgiving night, since Ruby couldn’t leave since she had family over. “I know I’m stupid,” he told her forlornly.

 

“You’re not _stupid_ , Cas,” Ruby said firmly. “You’re just confused. I mean, it could go either way, I guess. How often do you feel any sexual desire?”

 

“Ruby…” he muttered. His cats were staring at him from the end of the bed, and having this conversation in the darkness of his room made him feel especially awkward. There was something about the dark that made this conversation dirtier, as if he should have been ashamed. “I don’t know, not that often. I feel attracted to Dean though.”

 

“You do know that asexuals _can_ feel sexual desire,” she replied. “I’m reading this FAQ thing from a website. There’s also a “gray” area. You may identify in this area more than plain ace.”

 

“What is that?” he asked.

 

“It says here that…” she drew out the _that_ until she began reading, “ ‘ _Asexuality and sexuality are not necessarily black and white. There is a spectrum of sexuality, with sexual and asexual as the endpoints and a gray area in-between. Many people identify in this gray area under the identity of "gray-asexual," or "gray-a.".”_

 

Castiel nodded, his mind turning at the idea of being a gray-asexual. The name alone sounded like something he would identify under.

 

_“Examples of gray-asexuality include an individual who does not normally experience sexual attraction but does experience it sometimes; experiences sexual attraction but has a low sex drive; experiences sexual attraction and drive but not strongly enough to want to act on them; and/or can enjoy and desire sex but only under very limited and specific circumstances_ ,” She paused to take a breath and grab more gummy worms.

 

“Sounds kinda like me,” he admitted. “I think.”

 

As she shewed, Ruby nodded, clearly mulling it over. “Yeah, you are only really attracted to older men, thus the “special circumstance” is there, but sexuality is hella fluid, so I think that you can really identify however you choose. If you think you’re asexual, then fine I guess? I don’t know, pretty sure I’m bi, but I don’t know, I’ve never put that much thought into it.”

 

“I don’t even know why I’m so worried about it,” Castiel replied, wriggling around to become more comfortable against his pillows. “It’s not like Dean and I are ever going to actually be together.”

 

“But you said that when you visited that he said you guys could “talk about it” when he got out. Whatever _that_ means.” She tilted her head to the side. “Right?”

 

He sighed and shrugged. “Pretty sure that was his nice of way of saying ‘No way’. I mean I don’t _blame_ him, I probably still look like jailbait.”

 

“But you’re _not_. It’s not like he can actually _go_ to jail for dating you or banging you or whatever it is you want out of that. Let’s be real, we _all_ have fantasies about older men, women,  what have you. Like, me? I’d bang the _shit_ out of Tom Hiddleston even if he _is_ thirty-two.”

 

Castiel smiled a little and nodded in understanding. “Yes, but he is also a celebrity, you would never have that chance thrown at you,” he pointed out. “It’s different when it’s real life.”

 

“I _guess_ ,” Ruby replied, her eyes rolling so hard her head moved with the motion. “It’s your life though, no one can really judge you. Just play the cancer card if people freak out. Just be like ‘Bitch, I’ve got cancer, and Dean Winchester is who turns me on, so suck it’, and then go on your merry way.”

 

He laughed, quickly clamping a hand over his mouth so he didn’t wake Gabriel. Sunny glared at him, since she had been attempting to sleep, and he gently nudged and petted her with his foot as an apology. “You know I would _never_ say that.”

 

“Yeah, _out loud_ ,” Ruby replied with a knowing grin. “But I don’t blame you for not telling Gabriel, pretty sure that would just be _asking_ for trouble.”

 

“Yeah, exactly.” Castiel yawned. “Shit-sorry-”

 

“Are you _tired_? It’s only one in the morning, you wimp.” Her wink conveyed that she was teasing him. “Go to bed. Have dirty dreams about your man in jail.”

 

“Good _night_ Ruby,” he said firmly.

 

“Niiighhttt!!” She waved and Castiel ended the call so he could shut his laptop and settle down for sleep.

 

However, now that she had _said_ it, his mind began to wander off towards the gutter, and soon took a nosedive. His breathing grew ragged as he thought of Dean storming into his bedroom, yanking his duvet free, and spreading his thighs open; rough hands gripping him so hard he bruised, stubble raking over his face and neck, thick fingers filling him up until he was a whimpering, sticky mess. His hand began to slide south between the blanket and his clothing, brushing past the waistband of his flannel pants and through the coarse hair that grew at the base of his slowly hardening dick.

 

Masturbation was not something he very practiced at; he hardly ever touched himself, since he hardly ever felt aroused. Sometimes he masturbated to relieve stress, but his arousal heated up his entire body, and soon the blankets were being shoved away from his body since it felt like a heat trap. Ignoring the cats, Castiel shut his eyes and began to experiment with dragging his hand up and down his length; the concentration it took to keep himself excited kept him from thinking on Dean too often, but his mind would send him flashes of what he envisioned nude Dean looked like, and the way his deep, rough voice would say _his_ name.

 

His erection throbbed in his hand in time with his heartbeat, his hips lifting off of the bed, his thighs falling open, and still Castiel bit his lip and focused on completion. From the feeling in his balls and cock, it wouldn’t be long from now. Dean would write poetry in his skin with calloused hands, and Dean would fill him up so thickly that he would feel like bursting. Dean would respect him. Castiel gasped when he felt his body give in; his dick jerked when he shuddered and slowly slid his hand away as he grew too sensitive to touch. Suddenly the need to sleep was overwhelming, and he couldn’t even bring himself to get up and clean up, he just kept his eyes shut and drifted to sleep with Dean on his mind.

 

☣☢☣☢

 

“Dean!! Dean!!!!”

 

Dean sighed and forced himself to not groan out loud when he heard Ash’s voice call to him across the yard. The mullet-wearing genius raced over, his breathing coming in ragged, as if he had ran the way here. From the looks of his face, he had. “Yeah?” Dean asked with a head tilt.

 

“It’s-bad-”

 

“What is?” Dean grabbed onto Ash’s shoulder to help steady him as he regained his breath. “Ash, what’s going on?”

 

“It’s Benny-... Someone beat him, man. They took him to the hospital. In cuffs, sure, but the fuckin’ _hospital_ , man!” Ash stared at him in true distress. “What are we gonna do about it? You _know_ who it is.”

 

Gordon had beaten Benny - not _him_ , Dean knew that Gordon was too afraid to do it himself - but he would have sent one of his lackeys to do the job. Probably more than one, since to take down Benny it would have required a few hands. Dean felt his jaw clench; Benny was the last straw. It needed to end - _now_.

 

“Dean, what are we gonna do?” Ash repeated.

 

Dean frowned and turned away, angrily kicking the fence a few times. “Fuck!!” He wanted to beat Gordon within an inch of his life, but that would keep him in jail. He was almost _out_ damn it, why did this have to happen _now_? Bobby was working on having Gordon transferred, but until then, Dean knew he was fucked. Sighing heavily, Dean leaned against the fence, wrapping his fingers through the chain links, his head spinning. There had to be a peaceful way to end this. Not that he was a fan of the _peaceful_ routes, he never had been.

 

His father had taught him to fight, bite, kick, and claw his way through life, and he had, but if he wanted out on time, this was going to require some polite decorum. “I’m gonna talk to him,” he replied after some silence. “Man to man.”

 

“That ain’t gonna get you _shit_ , and you know it!” Ash cried. “We should _crush_ them for what they did to Benny-”

 

“We don’t have enough men,” Dean replied tiredly. “And I want out, Ash. I don’t want more time on my sentence for beating an inmate to death, no matter how much he deserves it. Okay?”

 

Ash nodded a little but Dean could tell he wasn’t convinced. “Yeah sure,” Ash muttered.

 

Dean sighed one more time before walking  away, back towards the compound. After asking a few passers by, he soon learned the location of Gordon, and found him in the rec room, which was not surprising, since they seemed to rule that room with an iron fist too. Gordon and his boys were enjoying lording over the jail like kings, it made Dean sick. “Gordon,” he called as he walked in. “I wanna talk to you. Alone.”

 

Gordon’s guard dogs stood up and went to stand in front of him, but Gordon waved a hand, and soon the room was emptying to leave them alone. Gordon smiled, and there was so much malice in his eyes. “What can I do for you, Winchester?”

 

“Why?” Dean asked coldly.

 

“I told you, your reign is over. You may have escaped before, but tearing you down is actually _quite_ easy. All I have to do is get rid of the people you care about in here, easy as that.” Gordon smirked and sat back, lounging in his seat. “It’s time for a regime change, Winchester.”

 

“Look, you win, okay? You can rule _however_ you want, I just want me and mine _safe_ , okay? We’ll stay out of your way. You can do whatever you fucking want, as long as there’s no more violence,” Dean said sternly.

 

“Oh?” Gordon asked, leaning forward, his eyes fixated on Dean’s like a viper’s. “And what are you going to _do_ about it, Dean? Word around is that you’re leaving soon. Six more months, and you’re outta here. Well, I don’t got anything to lose, but you have _everything_ to lose, so why would I let you walk outta here without some payback first?”

 

The desire to punch Gordon was strong; he had to clench his teeth and fists together to stop from doing it, but he _knew_ as soon as he did, Gordon’s goonies would be on him like flies to honey. “You’re a piece of work, you know that?” he growled.

 

Gordon smiled and shrugged, leaning back in his chair again. “Yeah, well, have fun in Hell, Dean.”

  
Dean glowered but he had no choice but to leave then. Bobby needed to have this jerk transferred soon or more bodies were going to drop. Tears filled his eyes as he returned to his bunk and remembered that Benny was gone. He didn’t even know if he was going to make it, but his anger had him punching the wall until his knuckles bruised anyway.

 


	11. Intermission for Remission

The last time he had heard from Dean had been right before Thanksgiving, and it was now time for a checkup at the hospital in mid-December. Dean had not written him in weeks. Castiel had worried some of his weight right off, and now he didn’t even like looking in the mirror because a skeleton looked better than he did. Gabriel said that he had gained weight, but Castiel didn’t see it. He was waiting for his doctor to come and tell him the news, hoping that he would see Dean leaving chemo by the time he was walking out of here. His health had been better lately, and he did not feel as sick anymore, so the hope for remission was strong.

 

But it would figure that as soon as he started to feel better, the cancer would metastasize to his lungs, or attack his brain somehow. That would be his luck; if he didn’t have bad luck he would have no luck at all, that was the kind of person he was. So, Castiel remained on the cold table, and waited for the doctor to tell him of his inevitable death, and when it would come.

The doctor barely knocked before opening the door, a smile on his face. “You’re in remission,” he said immediately, without any build up. It just came out of his mouth with much excitement.

 

Castiel stared at the man as if he had lost his mind. He didn’t know this doctor very well, since he was being tested by a doctor in the no-nonsense hospital, but the man seemed damn happy that Castiel was in remission. The smiling ended up being contagious, happy tears filling Castiel’s eyes. Of course, he had been hoping for remission for a long time. Everyone did, and here it was, laid out on the table like an offering.

 

“I’m in remission?” he managed to whisper.

 

The doctor nodded with more smiling before diving into the medical stuff that (even after all of this time) Castiel still had a hard time understanding. “As long as you keep up with the medicine we are going to put you on, you should be fine. Now, knock on wood, but you may have a lasting remission if you keep this good health up.”

 

Castiel's eyes watered more, the only thing he could do was nod, and smile. “I-I have to tell Gabriel…”

 

“Of course.” The doctor helped him off of the table, and then he was leading him back out to where Gabriel waited on him.

 

Castiel practically flew over, tears streaming down his face. He threw his arms around Gabriel’s neck and hugged him as tightly as he could, which made Gabriel concerned. He could feel his brother stiffening, and the questions were soon leaving his mouth - _what was wrong?_ “Nothing,” he answered, “I’m in remission.”

 

Gabriel stared and then they were both crying, smiling, and jumping up and down like children. _He was in remissions_. Gabriel kept repeating the sentence like a mantra, and Castiel continued to nod each and every time; he soon looked as if he were bobbing his head to music.

 

“Told you that you gained weight,” Gabriel teased and Castiel laughed. Maybe he _had_ gained weight. His pants didn’t exactly fall off of his body, even if he saw someone much thinner in the mirror. Maybe he was crazy.

 

“I can’t believe it,”  he whispered with the wide smile that would not go away.

 

“I can. I _knew_ you could do it. You’re kickin’ cancer’s butt, Kiddo, that’s great!” Gabriel pulled hi min for another hug.

 

Castiel turned his eyes on the clock.

 

Time of life: 4:30 p.m. December 15, 2014.

 

He squeezed Gabriel as hard as he could, ready to sing from the rooftops, but he just kept crying. The tears wouldn’t stop, even if they weren’t tears of pain, he knew that his sniffling must have come off as a bad thing. Especially when a familiar voice called to him from nearby.

 

“Cas? You okay?”

 

It was _Dean_. Castiel pulled away and went to face Dean with a watery smile. “Dean, you’re okay.”

 

“Okay is relative,” Dean replied, a frown on his face as he sat in his wheelchair. “You weren’t at chemo…”

 

Castiel’s smile widened, and he said the words like Holy Scripture, “I’m in remission.”

 

The look on Dean’s face - the mixture of surprise, happiness, and maybe a bit of disappointment - was worth it. “That’s _awesome_ ,” Dean sputtered. “That’s so great, Cas. Go live your damn _life_ , and go annoy the shit out of some other adult, yeah?”

 

Castiel nodded. He knew that he wasn’t supposed to, but he threw his arms around Dean’s neck anyway, even daring to press a kiss to Dean’s cheek, whispering a  ‘thank you’ in his ear. “For everything,” he added, before brushing his lips against Dean’s cheek one more time, but then he had to let go. There were tears shining in Dean’s eyes.

 

“Yeah,” Dean muttered with a scarlet blush. “You take care now, okay?”

 

He nodded. “I will. Am I still allowed to write you?”

 

Dean stared at him in surprise, as if he were shocked to hear that Castiel still wanted to take the time to exchange correspondence. “Yeah, of course,” Dean said quickly. “Sorry-I know I haven’t written back… it’s been hell lately.”

 

“I’m sorry,” Castiel replied sadly. “Take your time, or I can write you something new?”

 

“That’d be better,” Dean admitted with an embarrassed smile.

 

“Okay. I’ll write you a new letter, ASAP, okay?” When Dean nodded, Castiel could see that the guard was ready to take him away, so he gave Dean a wave, and then slowly returned to Gabriel. Their smiles hardly left their faces for the rest of the evening.

 

 


	12. A Very Novak (and Winchester) Christmas

The smell of baking cookies no longer made him want to vomit, neither did the smell of a honeyed ham or the smoke from the fireplace. They were going to do Christmas right this year because for once Castiel did not have to worry about being sick. He was cautiously happy, since he knew in the back of his mind that cancer could take his remission away with a snap of its diseased fingers, but for now he could focus on all of the little things that he could now fully enjoy. Dean had told him to enjoy his life and he was going to. As soon as he had come home that evening, he he cried for what felt like hours to Sunny and Khoshehk, and the poor cats couldn’t decide if he was happy or sad, so they just crowded him and purred their little cat brains out.

 

The second thing he did was call Ruby; he hated talking on the phone, but he called her anyway. When she had answered on the second ring, he had blurted out the words so fast she hadn’t heard him.

 

_“What?” Ruby had asked, a frown in her voice._

 

_“I’m in remission,” he repeated more slowly, a smile in his voice._

 

 _“Whoa-whoa-wait-are you serious? Wait-. Of course you’re serious, oh my_ God _!!!”_

 

She had proceeded to squeal and scream and laugh with him for the next fifteen minutes. They had enjoyed some true happiness, and even Castiel had forgotten about being cautious for the moment. He was in remission and he had a friend to celebrate with, that was more than he could have ever dreamed of just last year. She was going to come over for Christmas later because her aunt had to be out of town for a last minute business meeting, so Gabriel had offered for her to come and celebrate with them. It was two days before Christmas, and they were baking cookies like it was going to go out of style.

 

Gingerbread, wedding balls, sugar cookies, shortbread, chocolate chip, white chocolate chip, peanut butter, peanut butter cup, mint chip, jelly filled, thumb print, and the list just kept growing. Castiel had flour, sugar, and frosting all over his pants, shirt, hands, and face, but he he didn’t care. Gabriel looked just as bad, and somehow he had managed to smudge chocolate along his right eyebrow, so far neither of them questioned how. There was also much hot chocolate to go around, and Castiel had already enjoyed three cups so far. There had been no throwing up after either.

 

“So, Michael is coming to visit,” Gabriel interrupted his thoughts cautiously. “He promised this time. And I know his promises usually don’t mean jack, but I think this year he really means it.”

 

Castiel turned to look at his brother, honestly surprised. “Really? He’s coming for Christmas?”

 

Gabriel nodded. “He should be arriving sometime tonight. I offered to come pick him up but he said he would just get a taxi so he wouldn’t bother us if it was late. I told him we’d be up late anyway, probably baking and watching movies. Just so you know… Do you care? I can tell him no-”

 

“No, it’s fine. It’s good that he’s coming. I’m glad,” Castiel admitted with a smile. “This sounds kinda crazy but I was wondering if I could talk to Dean on the phone… to wish him a Merry Christmas and stuff. I got a number from the prison to call, and they said they’d let him on for a few minutes. Do you care?” Castiel paused and gave Gabriel a worried look; he could tell that Gabe still didn’t really approve of his friendship (maybe more one day) with Dean. “I doubt he gets a lot of Christmas stuff…”

 

Gabriel didn’t answer him for a while, which made him worry more, until finally, he nodded and said, “Yeah, I guess you can talk to him on the phone. I already let ya visit him, what’s the difference? If you really, _really_ wanted, you could go and visit him… I suppose. Since tomorrow is Wednesday and all…”

 

Castiel’s face and eyes lit up. “Really?! Thank you!!” He threw his arms around Gabriel’s waist in a tight hug, but then the doorbell was ringing and he dashed over to see who was at their door. Ruby was standing, bundled in a parka, scarf, and hat, so Castiel threw open the door to let her inside. “Hey.”

 

“It is _so_ cold,” she said, stomping her feet on the porch before stepping inside to remove her boots. “Hi, you look great.”

 

“Thank you,” he said, offering to take her outerwear. He set her coat, scarf, and hat all on the coatrack by the front door, carefully sliding the hat into the parka’s pocket to keep it from becoming lost in the array of scarves and hats they owned.

 

“Oh my God, it smells like a bakery in here, holy shit.” Ruby smiled and then Castiel noted that she had a huge Christmas bag in one hand, and her overnight bag in the other. “Oh, here. Merry Christmas. But you can’t open it until Christmas, got it? Oh-there’s some of my gifts in there too, my aunt said I could open them with you guys, but I got you something too.”

 

Castiel smiled and took the bag from her to carry down the hallway to the living room where their (real, it was actually real this year) Christmas tree sat, in all of its overly large glory, Ruby on his heels. “Thanks, you didn’t have to do that.”

 

“Of _course_ I did, you’re my friend,” Ruby said. “Duh.”

 

“Thanks Ruby, Merry Christmas to you too… Oh, my brother is coming to town, my oldest brother. Just so you know.”

 

“Wait, is this kinda hot one with the stern face?” Ruby asked then.

 

Castiel sighed. He had forgotten that Ruby found Michael to be attractive. “ _Yes_. Michael is coming for Christmas this year. Do not hit on him, please?”

 

“If you tell me he’s too old for me I’m gonna hit you,” Ruby replied. “Hypocrite.”

 

Castiel blushed and shushed her. “Gabriel,” he whispered.

 

“Sorry. But seriously.” She smiled and winked at him. “Maybe I’ll get some Christmas noogie after all.” When he gave her a look of shock, she laughed. “I’m _joking_. If I was gonna sleep with your brother, I sure as hell wouldn’t do it in your house, that’d be rude.”

 

He shuddered; imagining Ruby and Michael hooking up was _not_ the mental image he wanted, but she was right. He _would_ be a hypocrite if he told her that Michael was too old for her, since he had a huge homo crush on Dean. Michael just did not seem to be Ruby’s _type_ ; he couldn’t imagine vivacious Ruby hooking up with his too-serious brother. It just didn’t seem as if it would ever mesh well.

 

After unpacking the bag and placing all of the gifts under the tree, Castiel and Ruby made their way back to the kitchen where Gabriel was singing a terrible rendition of _Jingle Bell Rock_. Castiel smiled and rolled his eyes at Ruby before walking over to flick Gabriel’s ear, which earned him a gentle push. “You sound like a dying cow,” Castiel teased.

 

Gabriel gasped, clutched his chest, and fell back a few steps. “Oh-you _wound_ me, Cas. I’m-I think I’m dying-I’m _dyinnngg_.” Gabriel started to sink down to his knees, his hands flailing in the air as he pretended to be struck dead at Castiel’s words. After Ruby and Castiel continued to stare at him as if he had lost his mind, Gabriel popped his head back up. “Man, everybody’s a critic.”

 

He exchanged a glance with Ruby, and soon they were laughing so hard there were tears running down their faces. Gabriel waved them off and smudged some flour along Castiel’s nose. “Hey!” he gasped. “ _Rude_.”

 

“Now you can be Castiel the white nosed brat,” Gabriel replied with a wink.

 

“You’re more of a brat than I am,” he pointed out as he wiped his nose clean on a towel. “We came out here to help you-”

 

“And we’re just feeling so attacked right now,” Ruby cut him off.

 

Gabriel frowned and cocked his head. “What?”

 

“It’s a Tumblr thing,” Castiel replied.

 

“Ah.” Gabriel hunched his back over and put on an old man’s voice, “You kids and your technology, we old farts don’t know a damn thing about your Tumblrs and Facebooks. In _my_ day I had to walk to uphill, in the snow-”

 

“Both ways to school,” Castiel and Ruby finished for him in unison. “We _know_.”

 

Gabriel rolled his eyes, straightening his back. “You’re no fun.”

 

“And you never had to walk uphill to school in the snow both ways,” Castiel said. “Neither did Michael, you guys aren’t _that_ old.”

 

“Yeah, Gabe, give yourself _some_ credit,” Ruby said, hopping up on a stool in front of the breakfast counter. She slid her hand into a handful of spice drops, eagerly eating them one by one. She and Gabriel had a love of sweets in common, so Gabriel didn’t snap at her to put them back.

 

“Well, _thank_ you, Ruby,” Gabriel replied. “You should teach Flour Nose of there some manners.”

 

“I have manners!” he exclaimed hotly. “I’m not the one who dumped flour all over Sunny just to make her angry earlier.”

 

Ruby laughed, but then she slammed a hand over her mouth when Castiel glared at her. “Sorry,” he peeped.

 

“See, someone thinks I’m funny,” Gabriel replied with a swift wink.

 

“Well, Sunny _didn’t_. I have to give her an actual bath later, and when I return with battle wounds, I’m taking it out on _your_ butt.”

 

Gabriel snorted. “Eh, just stick her in the washing machine on gentle.”

 

Castiel gasped. “ _Gabriel_!”

 

“I’m _kidding_. Jeeze, _so_ sensitive today. Go outside and play in the snow or something.”

 

“I thought you needed help,” he said slowly, even if the idea of playing out in the snow sounded like a great idea. He couldn’t even remember when he had played in the snow last.

 

“You go and play in the damn snow like kids are supposed to,” Gabriel chided.

 

He did not have to be told three times, so Castiel grabbed Ruby by the arm, dragged her off of the stool, and rushed into the hallway. He was quick to toss her coat into her arms, while he yanked on his, making sure to button up, and throw on a hat. Gabriel had bought him a sock monkey hat, which he thought looked a tad ridiculous, but it had strings on the side, that made him look sort of cute, so he wore it; plus it was really warm, that helped too. Shoving his feet into his winter boots, Castiel rushed outside without waiting on Ruby, which was probably rude he realized too late, but the snow was perfect for packing and building.

 

“It is freezing balls outside, _what_ are you doing?” Ruby demanded when Castiel laid down to make a snow angel.

 

“Snow angels!” he answered, pumping his arms and legs back and forth.

 

“You are _insane_.” Ruby shivered and remained on the steps of the porch.

 

Castiel laughed and stared up at the gray sky. Snow was starting to fall in a slow swirl, like a gift from the snow gods just for this specific occasion. The air was frigid, he had to admit, since his nose was already feeling frozen and red, but he ignored the cold completely, shoving it from his mind. He was always cold anyway, what was the difference? Instead, Castiel remained in his snow angel, not wanting to mar its wings, watching the snowflakes drift to collect on his eyelashes, and melt on his cheeks. His hot breath made a subtle fog when he breathed out.

 

His mind wandered to Dean, as it often did. Did Dean celebrate Christmas? He seemed like a Christmas guy. Did the prisoners get to even _have_ Christmas? Was there a tree? Even a fake tree? Even one made of construction paper pinned to the wall? Were there gifts? He had sent Dean a present along with his latest letter, just in case he didn’t receive it until later, since it was the holiday season. It hadn’t been a big deal, just another book that he had bought him from the book store. Well, not a book, but a journal. He figured that Dean wouldn’t mind journaling his last few months while in prison, so he could have something to do that wasn’t menial work. He supposed he could ask Dean tomorrow - on Christmas Eve he realized - when he went to visit.

 

A comfortable sigh slid out of his body, his eyes closing as it escaped free. The cold settled over him like a blanket, and Castiel shut the world out for a moment. He forgot to think or feel or do anything that involved being a human being. He listened to his own breathing, as it came in and out slowly; his heart beat slow and steady behind his ribs. He did not have to be defined by his disease right now, and cancer had released him from its skeletal, poisonous grip, but it still lingered there, hovering cold hands over his chest, ready to grasp on again when ready. He wished that he could stop feeling cautious; he wished that he could just live his life without having to feel any worry building and hovering like a vulture.

 

Death circled him, high above in the sky, but it was ready to dive down and rip him open with sharp talons. He knew that he was more or less on borrowed time, since he could not envisioned remission lasting for the rest of his life. The cancer _would_ come back, that much he was certain. People were that lucky, but he had never been a lucky person. He just hoped that when it did come back, it did not return with a battle cry and vengeance. A snowflake landed on his eyelash, and Castiel wasn’t sure, but he was fairly certain that meant he was supposed to make a wish, so he silently wished for Dean; he wished that Dean would soon find the comforts of a home, and remission. Perhaps that was too much to ask for, but he wished anyway. After all, Dean deserved those things, more than anyone he knew.

 

“Cas?”

 

Castiel slowly opened his eyes, focusing on Ruby who was staring down at him in concern. “What?” he asked.

 

“God, you scared me, you were just lying there, and I was talking to you, and you didn’t say anything.” She huffed and gave him a dirty look. “Made me walk out here where it’s cold, you jerk.”

 

He grinned. “Sorry,” he said, only half meaning it. Making her worry had not been nice, but he was determined to get her to play in the snow with him.

 

“Yeah, sure you- _are_!” she shrieked when Castiel grabbed onto her ankles, pulling her down with him in the white powder. “JERK!”

 

He laughed a full belly laugh that left frozen tears on his cheeks. Ruby gave him a dark look and shoved some snow down his coat. That cut his laughter off and he sat up, trying to shake the cold stuff from his jacket. His wild flailing made _her_ laugh, and it was his turn to give her a dark glance.

 

“Ha ha,” he growled.

 

“Ugh, why do you have to be a weird version of asexual and gay, huh?” she asked, her lower lip coming out to pout. “You’re just so grossly hot.”

 

Her compliment made his cheeks heat up. He couldn’t understand what Ruby saw in him; he wasn’t even six foot yet, but she found him attractive. He was probably lighter than her, and his hair _never_ behaved. He was grossly pale right now, since he hardly saw the sun, and it was winter, but that would change once summer and spring came around; he tanned like crazy during those months, which made all of the girls in his class angry, since he accomplished that look without trying. They spent hundreds of dollars on tanning supplies, and all he had to do was take a few walks outside, or sit in the sun in his living room for a few hours. His lips were too pouty, and his jawline was too stern. He was gangly and awkward. What she saw in him, he could not figure out.

 

“I’m really not,” he told her with an apologetic glance. “Sorry.”

 

“You really _are_. And why are you sorry?” she asked.

 

“I just feel bad that we can’t-you know- go out or something.” He shrugged, finally getting the last bit of snow from his clothes.

 

“Cas, it’s _okay_. You’re my friend, and I’m _glad_ you’re my friend. I don’t need to be your romantic girlfriend too. I mean, sure, sometimes I fantasize a little, but a girl’s gotta have her fantasies… but I know that’s what they are. _Fantasies_. Not able to come to life. I get it. _Never_ apologize for who you are attracted to… Unless you’re attracted to little kids, then you should apologize and get some mental help, but you’re not, so it’s fine.”

 

Castiel half smiled and nodded. “Gabriel said I could go and visit Dean tomorrow… Do you mind? If I go out?”

 

She waved her hand. “No, you go and wish your man a Merry Christmas.”

 

“He’s not _my_ man,” he whispered, embarrassed.

 

“Oh, he is _totally_ your man,” Ruby laughed. “You told me that he was going to “talk about it” with you when he got out? Trust me Cas, he’s got it _bad_ for you. Which, while a bit creepy, it’s kinda hot too. Like, you get a grown ass man hot under his collar, I don’t know, I think that’s sexy. Again, sort of creepy, since he _is_ in his thirties, but let’s be real, we _all_ want to bang an older man in his thirties, and all men in their thirties wanna bang someone who just became legal. It’s just science”

 

His face turned hot again. Ruby was right; it was a little creepy, even he had to admit it had its creep factor, but he was eighteen, so that at least made it legal, even if frowned upon by society. Which was ridiculous, since young girls at the ages of twelve through fourteen used to marry men in their fifties, what was the difference? At least he was _legal_. And at least he wasn’t being forced into it; this was _his_ choice, his and Dean’s. Unless, of course, Dean backed out because he felt too pervy, which would be a shame. He really hoped Dean didn’t back out later. He also hoped that Gabriel did not try and tell him no, he most certainly could _not_ date a man who was fourteen years older than him. That was a fool’s hope. Gabriel would probably stamp his foot down once he realized they had an intention to be more than friends.

 

Man, he hoped that didn’t ruin their relationship as brothers down the line.

 

“You wanna build a snowman?” Ruby asked.

 

Castiel snorted. “Only if you don’t start singing stuff from _Frozen_ ,” he replied.

 

“Too late,” Ruby replied before beginning to sing _Let It Go_.

 

Castiel sighed but soon he joined her whilst they built a snowman in the front yard.

 

☣☢☣☢

 

“What do you mean you can’t come tomorrow?” Dean hissed into the receiver. “It’s Christmas Eve-”

 

“Dean, I’m sorry, but I have a huge case I’m working on right now, and I have to work. I’m _sorry_. I wish I could come, you know I would never miss it,” Sam said, sounding desperate for Dean’s forgiveness. “Maybe Mom’ll come and visit you-”

 

“Don’t bother,” he snapped angrily. “Just forget it, Sam. Merry fucking Christmas to you, too.” He slammed the phone back down and stormed off in hurt and rage. Of _course_ Sam couldn’t take some time out of his important and busy day to stop by on his favorite holiday; he hadn’t had a proper Christmas in ten years, but clearly that didn’t matter when he was going to get out in five months. He had almost asked for furlough but everyone asked for furlough during the holiday season, and furlough was hardly granted unless under extreme circumstances.

 

Now he was glad he hadn’t.

 

He would never be a part of Sam’s family, not after ten years had passed, and Sam now had his own family. He and his girlfriend - now fiance - would be marrying soon, and by soon, he meant in a few months. Jessica was pregnant, which they were trying to keep from the wedding party, so they were having the wedding sometime in January. He was going to miss his own brother’s wedding. And now he wasn’t even going to get to have a visit for Christmas Eve? The anger made him clench his fists as he stormed away from the phones and back towards his bunk.

 

The empty, cleaned opposite side only made him angrier. Benny, his best friend and brother-in-arms, was dead. He hadn’t made it through the beating, and had died sometime before he had last seen Cas. He didn’t have a new bunkmate, and he was hoping Bobby would keep it that way. He didn’t have Sam for Christmas, and he didn’t have Benny either. Tears, the tears he had yet to shed for his friend, filled his eyes then, and as he sank down onto his cot, he didn't keep them back. They fell down his face like fallen, lost stars. He covered his face with his hands, hunched over to sob. Everything was falling apart.

 

_“You wanted to see me, Bobby?”_

 

_Bobby looked up from his paperwork, his face stricken. “Have a seat, Dean.”_

 

 _Bobby’s tone made him nervous as he sank down in front of him in the chair opposite Bobby’s desk. “What’s up? You got that_ look _on your face like something bad happened…”_

 

_Bobby slowly stood, and came to lean back against his desk so he would be closer to Dean. He settled his hand on Dean’s shoulder, giving a firm squeeze. “It’s Lafitte,” Bobby said gravely. “He didn’t make it, son.”_

 

 _For a moment, the words didn’t register, but after they sank in, Dean gasped, staring up at Bobby in pure shock. Benny was_ dead _. He wouldn’t be coming back, and Gordon had been the one to take Benny away from him. Even if he hadn’t done it himself, he had given the order. He was just as guilty as the bastards who had beat Benny up. “You’re jokin’,” Dean said, unable to make the words reality._

 

_Bobby shook his head sadly. “He passed away sometime this mornin’ Dean, I’m very sorry. I know he was your friend.”_

 

 _Dean gasped and began to hyperventilate in an attempt to control his emotions. The door was closed, but he was not in a safe place to cry. Not with Gordon waiting for him to show his weaknesses. “Son of a bitch,” he whispered, covering his eyes. “Son of a_ fucking _bitch.”_

 

_Bobby squeezed his shoulder again before releasing him. “Investigators are comin’ to see if they can figure out who done it-”_

 

 _“I_ know _who did it, Bobby. It was Walker,” he growled fiercely. “That son of a bitch deserves to fucking_ rot _.”_

 

 _“I’ve been tryin’ to get him transferred, but if he_ is _responsible it’ll be better if he remains here. If he is found guilty, he’ll be taken to solitary, his sentence worsened. You know this… I wish there was something I could do to protect ya Dean, but there ain’t.” Bobby slowly returned to his seat, sinking down and then offering him a tissue. “Here. Clean up, and get outta here. I’ll do what I can to keep Walker away from you.”_

 

_Dean accepted the tissue and wiped his face clean, blowing his nose once. He couldn’t cry, not without consequences. Benny would understand. The promise to clear Benny’s name would still be a mission he had, even though Benny was gone. Benny would not die a criminal, not if he could help it. Thanking Bobby, Dean stood and walked out of his office, his face a cold mask. Gordon would get what was coming to him, one way or another._

 

Crying was still not a wise option, but the stress was getting to him. He had found a few gray whiskers in his beard, and he was honestly surprised there hadn’t been more. He needed to get _out_ , so he could put this all behind him. That was still so far away; five months felt like an eternity, even if the last ten years had seemed to fly by. Now that he was leaving soon, the grind was too real. It was a wonder he could get himself out of bed in the mornings. The thought that one day he would find a way to avenge Benny was the only thing keeping him going.

 

And Cas.

 

When he thought on Cas, it made him get up and keep his feet moving. Once he was out, Dean decided that he was going to find Cas, and kiss that kid completely breathless. He hadn’t kissed someone in ten years, so he was sure he was out of practice, but Cas would probably never be able to tell anyway. He didn’t care how shady it sounded, he was going to kiss him, and then he was going to find a way to get in that kid’s pants. He would be a gentleman about it, and wait if he had to, but he didn’t want to go out and have sex with someone he didn’t know, which had been the plan for the longest time. But now he had someone he felt _something_ towards; he wasn’t sure what that something happened to be, but when he thought on Cas, his stomach filled with butterflies, and his chest felt tighter than before.

 

Society could tell him he was fucked up and wrong for wanting the kid, but he didn’t care about that either. He had made peace with it, and Benny teased him about it, but he knew that his friend had been _happy_ to know he had a friend on the outside. Castiel was kind, smart, and way too attractive for his own good; he wanted to wrap him up in his arms and protect him from all of the dangers in the world. He would be a good boyfriend, one who didn’t give a damn about homophobes. He would give Cas as much PDA as the kid wanted, or as little as he wanted. He didn’t care if Cas were asexual - even if that would take some adjusting on his part. He would be _good_ to Cas.

 

Once he was outside, he would find a job - hopefully - and he would have to find a place to live. He wanted to live with Sam, but now he wasn’t sure if that would work. Perhaps his mother would let him stay with her until he had enough money to live on his own. Unless Sam wanted to help him out and loan him some money; he was always good about paying people back. Dean always stuck to his word.

 

“Benny,” he whispered to the emptiness. “I’m gonna make Gordon fucking _sorry_ for what he did to you, you hear? You’re gone now, but I know you’re upstairs raisin’ hell with your Cajun cookin’. You teach those Holy Rollers how to eat, brother.”

 

Maybe it was a trick of his mind, but Dean was fairly certain he had heard Benny laugh. He smiled into the emptiness until footsteps drew his eyes over to Rufus. “Yeah?” he asked.

 

“You got a phone call.”

 

“If it’s Sam, tell him to fuck off for me.”

 

“Some kid on the line for you.”

 

Dean’s heart leapt and he stood to race to the phone. Rufus led him to one of the payphones, where he was transferred to, he assumed, Castiel. “Cas?” he asked as soon as the line cleared.

 

“Dean? Hi!”

 

Dean smiled and leaned against the wall, making sure to talk low so someone didn’t eavesdrop. “Hey Bab-... Cas,” he greeted warmly. He had almost called Cas, _Baby_ , which had always been one of his favorite pet names for his significant others. A blush crept up the back of his jumpsuit; he was going to have to clear that with Cas first, preferably in person before he started giving him pet names.

 

Either Castiel hadn’t heard him or he glazed over the mistake because he was speaking quickly, as if he had to hurry, “So, my brother told me I could come and see you tomorrow. Is that allowed? Since it’s Christmas Eve?”

 

“You’re coming tomorrow?” he asked. “Really?” The excitement filled his voice and he knew he probably sounded like a child, but he didn’t care. “You’re really coming?”

 

“Yeah, if I’m allowed,” Castiel replied.

 

“Yeah, you’re allowed! People get visitors for holidays-that’s so awesome,” Dean said with a smile. “I’m so glad you’re coming, Cas. Really. Thank you.”

 

“Did you get my present?” Cas asked.

 

“Present?”

 

“I sent a letter, and a gift. Did you get them?”

 

Dean blinked, trying to think back. He hadn’t received anything from Cas in a while. “No, I haven’t. I’ll ask my CO, maybe it never got to me, it’s been really hectic around here.” Bobby had told him that he would be delivering his mail in person, so he was going to have to bug the old man when this phone call ended. “You got me a present?” he asked shyly.

 

“Yeah,” Castiel replied brightly. “It’s nothing much.”

 

“Thanks, Cas. That’s real nice of you.” The blush made his ears burn. The longer they spoke, the more Dean ached to see him. “I wanna see you, real bad.”

 

Dean could hear Castiel’s smile through the phone, “Yeah? Me too. I want to see you too. I mean, I’m glad I don’t have to see you at chemo anymore, but I’m also sad that I don’t get to see you more often.”

 

“Well, you can come visit me whenever you want Cas, okay? I’d be happy to see you on Wednesdays.” He couldn’t even decide who he would be more happy to see, Cas or Sammy. “Seriously.”

 

“I’ll talk to Gabe about it. I’m going to break down and learn how to drive,” Castiel proclaimed happily. “That way I can just take myself to see you. Of course, you may be out before I have my license, but then I can just go and visit you wherever you’re living.”

 

“That’s good, Cas,” he whispered into the phone. He listened to Castiel’s breathing for a moment, and then felt like a real, honest to God pervert. His mind was driving towards the gutter, as he began to picture how Cas would breathe when he was about to experience orgasm. Cas’ voice was so sexy, that Dean was sure phone sex would be a blast, but he couldn’t get away with that here.

 

“Well, I gotta go, but I’ll see you tomorrow, okay? Merry Christmas, Dean! Let me know if you got my stuff, okay?”

 

He nodded, and then remembered that Castiel couldn’t see him. “Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow. Merry Christmas to you too, B-... Cas.” He didn’t hang up, he waited for Castiel to hang up the phone, before slowly setting the phone back in its cradle. The anger that he had felt earlier had dissipated, so Dean turned and rushed down towards Bobby’s office, bursting in through the door without knocking. Bobby didn’t look too happy about that, but he didn’t care at the moment. “Do you got mail for me?”

 

“Maybe,” Bobby growled, reaching to open a drawer of his desk, pulling out a package with a letter on top. “I figured I’d wait for you to come to me about it. Since everything’s been so damn insane right now.”

 

“Thanks,” Dean said, accepting the box, which was already open he realized, and the envelope, also open. “Hey, thanks Santa,” he commented sarcastically.

 

“You know the protocol Dean, I gotta give everything you get a looking over, make sure you ain’t gettin’ drugs in here- _Don’t_ gimme that look, I _know_ Cas ain’t gonna be sendin’ you drugs, but I’ve got to keep my damn job,” Bobby scolded.

 

Dean rolled his eyes, but he was glad to have his gift and letter. Putting them both under his arm, he made his way back towards his bunk. Gordon hadn’t bothered him since the investigation had started, so for that he was grateful. In fact, not many people bothered him at all, not since Benny’s death. His cot squeaked when he sank down into it, setting the letter aside for the moment so he could see what Castiel had bought him.

 

Inside was a leather bound journal; it was plain and brown but the pages were a lovely cream color. He smiled warmly at the journal. He had written an inscription inside, Dean noted as he opened to the first page:

 

_Dean,_

_I hope you find this journal helpful and fun during your last few months. Merry Christmas xoxo_

_\- Castiel Novak_

 

He smiled, setting the precious journal aside in favor of reading the letter.

 

 

Castiel would be arriving tomorrow, meaning he could write the letter tonight and just hand it over. That would make things easier. He wanted to give Castiel a gift in return, but he had nothing to give him. There was Benny’s favorite quilt, which he had been given by Bobby, but that was his, and he wouldn’t feel right giving it away, even if it would be safer with Cas than here.

 

“Hey Dean,” Ash greeted, a bit shyly.

 

Dean turned his eyes on his friend; Ash had been Benny’s friend too. “Hey Ash.”

 

“Sorry to bug ya, but we’re gonna start makin’ some decorations soon. Just like paper chains and shit, maybe cut out a big tree… even if child scissors suck.” Ash smiled a little. “You wanna come with?”

 

Dean glanced down at Castiel’s letter and nodded. “Yeah,” he said, as an idea struck him, “I do.”

 

☣☢☣☢

 

“It’s lopsided.”

 

Castiel groaned and pressed his forehead to the counter. They had been attempting to make a gingerbread house, but it wasn’t turning out, no matter what they did. “Fuck.”

 

“Hey, language,” Gabriel said, just as the doorbell rang. It was half past eleven, it could only be Michael. “I got it.”

 

He sighed, leaning his cheek on his palm. His first gingerbread house, and it looked like a four year old had made it. “I suck,” he lamented sadly.

 

Ruby snorted. “Mine ain’t much better,” she pointed out.

 

Castiel turned his eyes on the other house that Ruby had been assembling. He and Gabriel had bought a big one, and Ruby had picked out two smaller ones so they could have a Gingerbread person village. But, yeah, he had to admit, hers weren’t doing so great either. “Oh well,” he said.

 

Footsteps drew their eyes from their work to Gabriel, and behind him Michael. Castiel hadn’t seen his brother in so long - not in person at least - that emotion immediately made his eyes water. Even though he and Michael had never gotten along well, that did not stop  him from being his brother, so Castiel slid from his stool to walk over and wrap his arms around him tightly. Michael drew in a sharp breath and returned the hug, just as tightly.

 

“Hello, Cas,” Michael greeted, lifting him in the tight hug.

 

“Hi, Michael,” he greeted back, looking up at his big brother. “It’s nice that you could come.”

 

“Yeah, I’m happy to be here. Who’s this?” Michael glanced over at Ruby and gave a cautious wave. “You gotta a girlfriend I didn’t know about?”

 

“If you mean girl plus strictly friend who likes to shop and cuddle his cats, then totally,” Ruby replied with a smile.

 

Castiel smirked and nodded a little, “That’s Ruby. My best friend. Her aunt had to go on a business trip, so she is celebrating with us.”

 

“ _Ah_. Well, that sounds festive. The more the merrier I suppose. Let me go put my stuff upstairs, and I’ll be down. Building gingerbread houses, huh? Damn, I haven’t done that since Gabe and I were little. Remember when you squirted frosting on the dog?”

 

“That was _you_ ,” Gabriel replied, coolly. “And _I_ was the one who got in trouble for it. It wasn’t even _our_ dog!”

 

“Oh, right… Yeah…” Michael trailed off and an awkward silence fell over them all. Castiel had forgotten that Gabriel sometimes had a hard time getting along with Michael just as much as he did.

 

“Cas,” Ruby said, drawing him back over. “C’mon, you’re slackin’!”

 

He would have kissed her on the mouth if that would have been appropriate for assisting in breaking the awkward. Walking back over, Castiel rejoined her at the table to continue assembling (or at least attempting to assemble) their village. Once Gabriel and Michael had gone upstairs, Ruby turned to look at him. “What?” he asked.

 

“So that’s him? Michael?”

 

“Yeah, that’s Michael.”

 

“Hm… Not my type after all, he was more attractive in the pictures,” Ruby said, sounding disappointed. “Oh well. Man, it’s awkward though, do you guys not get along that well?”

 

“Not really,” he admitted. “I wish we did, but he doesn’t come around often at all, and then on top of _that_ , he’s just…. he’s kind of snooty, you know?” Icing dripped down from the roof and began to plop on the table, as if the house were crying in agreement.

 

“Yeah, he does have that ‘I’m-better-than-you’ air about him,” Ruby admitted. “Dude, your house is melting.”

 

Again, Castiel groaned and put his forehead to the able.

 

☣☢☣☢

 

Dean fidgeted nervously as they waited to visit with their families. He wanted to see Castiel so badly, but he had to keep himself from running over to the table when he made his way inside. He did speed up however, and soon he sank down across from Cas with a smile plastered to his face. Immediately, the envelope was placed on the table, and he slid the letter over into Castiel’s space.

 

“Oh,” Castiel said with a smile. “Great.” He tucked the letter into his jacket’s pocket. “Merry Christmas, Dean.”

 

Dean nodded, trying not to cry or become emotional again. “Merry Christmas, Cas,” he whispered. “I’m so glad you came. Sammy couldn’t, and I don’t know about Mom- so it’s nice to have someone come and visit.”

 

“I’m glad I could come too, I figured you didn’t get too many visitors,” Castiel said sadly. “But, next year, you’ll have a real Christmas. That’s exciting, right?”

 

“With you?” he dared to ask, which was probably stupid. He didn’t know where they would be in a year, but Dean hoped it was on a couch, wrapped in each other’s arms, sharing kisses and snuggles beneath a warm blanket. That would be divine.

 

Castiel blushed and ducked his head. “I hope so,” came the answer.

 

“Me too.” He nodded.

 

“Good. Did you like your gift? You did get it, right?” Blue eyes, full of concern, met his.

 

“Yeah,” he replied with a nod, “I got it. Thank you. It’s beautiful. I promise, I’ll use it.”

 

“Good,” Castiel repeated with another smile. Dean had never seen the kid smile so much; it was beautiful. If a smile could bring world peace, it would be Castiel’s.

 

“That’s a good look on you,” he told him.

 

“What is?”

 

“Your smile.” Dean gave Cas a small, private smile, reserved just for him. “Pretty sure you could bring world peace with that smile.”

 

Another blush bloomed along Castiel’s cheeks. “Really? Thank you.” It was Castiel’s turn to fidget and shift around in his seat.

 

“You shouldn’t have given me your phone number.”

 

Alarm filled Castiel’s face. “Did I get you in trouble?”

 

“No, no.” Dean shook his head and held up his hands. “I just - um… I’ll probably abuse the power to call you, and do it like every day. That’s all. I like hearing your voice. You have a great voice.”

 

“So do you,” Castiel replied. “I could listen to you read the phone book.”

 

 _And I could listen to you read erotic literature_. He clasped his hands together on the table to keep from reaching to hold Castiel’s, since he wasn’t allowed, and he wasn’t sure if that would be allowed anyway. “Five more months,” he whispered. It was a promise, unspoken between them now; the promise that when Dean was out they could be together.

 

“Yes,” Castiel agreed, wriggling in his seat. “Five more. You can do it.”

 

“My birthday is January twenty-fourth. To answer your birthday question. I wrote it in the letter too, in case you forget.”

 

“I won’t forget,” Castiel promised. “I swear.”

 

“I believe that. My release date is April third, by the way.”

 

“The third of April?” Castiel smiled all big and childlike. “Okay, great. I will start a countdown. I’m so excited. You’re probably more excited, sorry if I’m being obnoxious.”

 

“Nah. You’re not obnoxious.” Dean slowly smiled, giving Cas the full Dean-Winchester-Grin treatment. As he figured, Castiel blushed and shifted beneath the smile, clearing his throat then. It was good to know he still had it. “You’re cute, remember?”

 

“Yes, I remember.”

 

The ache to kiss Castiel struck him so fully then, that it hurt; there was an actual pang of pain in his chest, that he ignored. He wanted to press their lips together slowly, chaste and easy at first, before teasing his tongue against Castiel’s lower lip, asking for entrance; if Castiel allowed him entry, he would ease his tongue against Castiel’s lower teeth first, teasing the tip of his tongue along Castiel’s mouth, until Cas grew more comfortable. If Cas sighed or whimpered, Dean would pull him so close, that there would be no hiding his inevitable erection. He imagined Cas would taste like mint - from his toothpaste, the kid had really good dental hygiene - and maybe something else. An undertone of sugar or cookies; he seemed like a cookie eater.

 

But he couldn’t kiss Cas now. That would be a violation of the rules, and Dean was doing his best to follow the rules to a letter so he would possibly be let out even earlier. That was unlikely, but if he stayed out of trouble, more time would not be added to his sentence either. The first thing he was going to do when he was out, would be to kiss Castiel. That would be his first goal. He had even written that in the letter, just so Cas would be aware. But for now, Dean kept his desires to himself and returned his focus on Cas and their conversation.

 

“Do you do anything for Christmas? In here that is?” Castiel asked.

 

“Not really,” Dean replied tiredly. “I wish, but-” he shrugged, “not in the cards for us. We make decorations, but nothing really happens. I mean, sometimes we try to do Secret Santa but um-” He cut off. Castiel didn’t know about Benny.

 

“But?” Castiel asked with a tilt of his head.

 

He licked his lips, even as his mouth became dry; Mojave Desert levels of dry. “A friend of mine, Benny, he was my friend in here… and-he died… Pretty recently. So the spirit’s been kind of down.”

 

Castiel gasped, clearly horrified as he slid his hands to his mouth. “Died? How? I mean-I mean if you don’t want to talk about it, that’s okay. I’m _so_ sorry Dean!”

 

“I can’t talk about it, it’s under investigation right now, but that’s why I haven’t been writing you. I’m sorry, Cas. Really.”

 

“It’s okay,” he replied. “I’m sorry, that’s _so_ awful.”

 

“Yeah,” he muttered in agreement, ready to move on beyond this subject. “Anyway, it just hasn’t been in the cards this year.”

 

“Well, like I said, next year will be better,” Castiel promised firmly.

 

“Yeah. It will.”

 

Castiel smiled again; Dean would have sold his soul to have Cas smile every day for the rest of his life. When it was time for Cas to leave, Dean gave him a quick hug, despite being snapped at by the guard, he didn’t care. Not today at least. Castiel waved to him before he disappeared around the corner. Dean felt his heart ache once Cas was gone. A deep breath filled his lungs and he thought, _Five more months_.

 

☣☢☣☢

 

“So, how’d it _gooo_?” Ruby sang once they were alone in his bedroom with some music playing to drown their conversation. Michael and Gabriel were downstairs wrapping last minute gifts and preparing dinner, so they had plenty of time to gossip. Sunny laid across Ruby’s lap, purring as her ears were scratched. Khoshekh was sitting in the window, playing with the blinds, which was typical. He was such a window cat.

 

“It went well,” he admitted slowly. “There was like this… unspoken agreement that we were going to be together when Dean was released. We didn’t have to say anything, we just knew. He got my gift, said he loved it. Oh, and he gave me a letter, I need to read that later.”

 

“Do you want some privacy? I can go and make myself scarce in the shower or something… or if you have a bathtub that’d be even better.” She smiled dreamily. “I _love_ baths.”

 

“We do have bathtubs. I’ll go get you a towel and washcloth. I think there are even some of those like... pearls that become bubbles in the bathroom.” He stood and walked out of his room, down the hall to the linen closet where they kept towels and other bathroom cloths. Ruby seemed like a fluffy towel kind of girl, so Castiel grabbed his extra fluffy blue towel to lend her. She was waiting for him in the doorway to his room with her overnight bag in hand. “The bathroom is right there,” he pointed to the door catty-corner to his bedroom.

 

“Sweet, thanks. Have fun reading your _loooveee_ letter,” she teased before heading off towards the bathroom.

 

Castiel rolled his eyes. Sunny stood in the doorway, meowing sadly at Ruby’s absence. “She’ll be back, gosh Sunny, am I not good enough for you anymore?” he asked, pretending to be offended. Sunny continued to meow, but he back her up with his foot gently so he could shut the door and return to his bed to read. The envelope wasn’t sealed this time, since Dean had hand delivered it, and soon he had it in hand.

 

 

 

 _The first thing I’m going to do when I’m out is find your cute butt and kiss you._ Dean wanted to _kiss_ him; in fact Dean had been thinking about kissing him for “a while now” whatever that meant. If key smashing in real life were possible, Castiel would have done so out loud now. He did end up crumpling the letter in his hands slightly at the thought of kissing Dean, for real, on the lips. He had smelled so _good_ and he wanted to fill his nose with that smell, and Dean’s warmth for the rest of his damn life. No matter how long that lasted.

 

Khoshekh jumped from the window to the bed, eagerly crawling up into his lap. “What?” he asked, but the kitten purred and purred, settling down. “Is this your seat now?” He received no answer, but Castiel set the letter aside anyway. He could write Dean after Christmas. That would be easier. A knock to the door made him glance over. “Yeah?”

 

The door squeaked when it opened, as it often did, and Michael slowly came in. “Hey,” he said with a smile. “What’s up?”

 

Castiel shrugged. “Not much. What’s up with you?”

 

“Well, I was talking to Gabe downstairs, and he said you’ve always wanted to get  tattoo… Because I wasn’t sure what to get you, so I was just gonna give you money tomorrow, but what if I paid for your tattoo? Now that you’re in remission and doing well, Gabe said he’d let you get one. So um… what do you say to that?” Michael looked nervous, as if he wasn’t sure this was a good idea, but Castiel smiled, taken by happy surprise.

 

“Really? You’d do that?”

 

His brother nodded, “Yeah. Whatever you want, I’ll cover it.”

 

Castiel practically tossed Khoshekh aside to knee-walk along his bed and pull Michael into a hug. “Thank you!” He felt Michael chuckle, and the hug was returned slowly but earnestly. “Thank you so much.”

 

“Hey, no problem, Kiddo. I think your cat is kinda pissed off.”

 

Castiel glanced back at Khoshekh, who glared up at him for being so roughly manhandled. “Sorry Khoshy, I’ll give you a treat, I promise.” Releasing Michael, he rolled up his sleeve to reveal his inner forearm. “I really want it here.”

 

“Okay, that’s fine. You get what you want Cas, it’s your body. Obviously we can’t go tomorrow, but Gabe said the local place is open the following day, so we can see if they have any appointments open, alright? _If_ not, we’ll ask how much it would cost, and I’ll write the check. Cool?” Michael held out his hand. Castiel figured it was due to his brother being used to making deals via handshake, so he shook his brother’s hand firmly.

 

“Deal,” he said.

 

Michael nodded firmly, gave him a quick one armed hug, and then left him alone again. Khoshekh meowed his protest when he picked him up and held him to his chest in joy. Squeezing the young cat, Castiel set him down when Khoshekh growled at him. “Sorry Khoshy.”

 

Needless to say, Sunny stayed on her side of the room.

 

☣☢☣☢

 

There hadn’t been a mountain of Christmas gifts under their tree in years, but there they were, in a pile of red, green, blue, gold, and other patterned shiny wrapping papers. Some of the were wrapped pristinely - which had to have been Michael’s doing - and some of them were wrapped haphazardly, which was most definitely Gabriel’s handiwork. Ruby followed him in tiredly, and usually Castiel would have right there with her, yawning and in the need of coffee, but he felt energized this morning. Not that he had slept the night before; he had been up all night trolling Tumblr while Ruby slept.

 

When he had put the letter back inside its envelope, Castiel had realized that there had been a drawing inside. Once unfolded, it revealed a drawing of Khoshekh, which Dean must have done from the picture. It was actually really good, and he had been impressed. On the back it had read _Merry Christmas_ in Dean’s handwriting; he had put the picture in a frame that had been empty on a shelf for years. The night had passed on without much event, but now morning was here, and Gabriel was already singing Christmas carols - again _terribly_ off key, but he didn’t mind. Gabriel’s Christmas spirit kept them all going anyway.

 

Once Ruby and Michael both had coffee, they convened in the living room to sit and open gifts. Gabriel came in, dressed in his red flannel pajamas and Santa hat, presenting the first box to him. “There you go Cas, you can do the honors.”

 

The paper was wrapped Gabriel style, so even though the tag read _To: Castiel From: Santa_ , he knew that Gabriel had bought him this gift as he slowly tore open the wrapping paper. He hated tearing into the boxes like a wild animal, so he always took his time to carefully unwrap each present neatly (or as neatly as he could with the crazy wrap job). It drove everyone else insane, but it kept _him_ sane, and he refused to change his ways now. After the last bit of the wrapping paper was removed, he had to open up the box, which was surprisingly small for the amount of wrapping paper used. There was silence in the room, which made him feel awkward as he finally got the box open… which was stuffed with newspaper.

 

“Really Gabe?” he asked, huffing as he pulled the newspaper out of the box.

 

Gabriel laughed. “You know that I love making you dig.”

 

At the bottom of the box was a sticky note.

 

 

“Befits, really?” Castiel asked.

 

“So I’m not the best rhymer,” Gabriel replied with a wave of his hand. “So sue me.”

 

“Do I need to do this right now?” he asked and when Gabriel nodded, he sighed. “ _Fine_. I can’t believe my first Christmas not feeling like I’m dying and you’re making me go dig around in the snow. You better tell me where, jerk.”

 

Gabriel grinned, following him on his heels. Michael and Ruby stayed inside while Castiel pulled on his winter clothes to head out into the dark. At least Gabriel turned the porch light on so he could fumble around in the cold snow. Using the directions Gabriel kept calling to him, Castiel eventually knelt down to dig in a pile of particularly powdery snow; at the bottom of the pile, on top of the frozen grass that they hadn’t seen in weeks, sat another box. Ripping it open, no longer caring for being neat, Castiel stared at the key inside. It was a car key.

 

Gabriel was grinning from ear to ear when he turned around, and all he could do was just stare at his brother in shock. “You got me a _car_?” he asked in disbelief.

 

Gabriel nodded his head a few times. “I used Grandma’s fund that she had, set aside for you, to get it for you. It’s in the second garage. It’s why I wouldn’t let you go in there for last few weeks. You ready to see it?”

 

Castiel nodded, heading back to the sidewalk, where Gabe waited to walk him around to open the garage. “You didn't spend an arm and a leg did you?” he asked, his voice on the edge of a whine.

 

“No, I got a good deal, I promise.” The garage opened slowly, as if new that it were about to reveal something important. Once the door opened, Gabriel slid inside to flip the light on, which flickered to life in the cold darkness before dawn. There sat a Prius, powder blue in color. “Tada!!”

 

A smile fell into place on Castiel’s face. “Wow-that’s-” Tears choked him up. He still couldn’t drive yet, but this was by far the most amazing Christmas gift he had ever received. “ _Thank_ you, Gabriel,” he choked out.

 

Gabriel slid an arm around his shoulders, giving him a firm squeeze. “No problem, Cas. I figured, since you wanted to learn to drive, I could help get you a car, and then we could get you learning, yeah?”

 

He nodded, tears rolling out of his eyes at a quick rate. They were coming so fast, and he could only sniffle and gasp pathetically over the gift; he wasn’t crying because the gift was so perfect (even though it totally was), he was crying because this gift, what it represented, made him feel so _normal_. He was just like any other teenager his age, receiving his first car. The thought of cancer was far from his mind, and even his fear of driving had left for the moment. He could just exist in this moment and remember that he was in remission, and life could be different now. There would still be pills and doctor visits, but they wouldn’t be as routine. He could drive himself to the mall, to _school_ , on a regular basis. He did not need Gabriel to take care of him as much as he had before, which meant Gabriel could finally live his life too.

 

“This is really perfect, thank you,” he finally whispered.

 

Gabriel pressed a kiss to the top of his head. “No problem Cas. C’mon, let’s get inside, it’s freezing.”

 

He nodded and followed Gabe back into the house where he was ready to gush to Ruby about his gift. A car and a tattoo in the same Christmas? Life couldn’t have gotten any better.

 

 

 

 


	13. Please Don't Go

The last date he had on a letter from Castiel was December 15, 2014. Cas had come to visit on Christmas Eve, but had not yet written. It was now January 27th. No birthday card, letter, or gift had arrived yet, and Dean had to admit, he felt disappointed. Receiving a letter for his birthday, a card, a gift, _anything_ from Cas would have made his birthday even better. But he had just checked with Bobby, and there was nothing. So, he had decided to write Cas again; short and simple, just something to nudge him along.

 

He was sure once Castiel received this next letter that he would hear from him; he was probably just busy, that was all. Nothing sinister, nothing awful, he was just busy. He probably had to go back to school and catch up on schoolwork that he had missed because of chemotherapy. Dean sighed and stared forlornly at the pile of letters he had stacked on the small desk in his bunk. They looked so small from where he sat. A feeling of being _empty_ filled him then; like Benny’s bunk. It had been empty for almost three months now, but it still felt so raw.

 

After Benny’s death, Dean had kept to himself. He still spoke with Ash now and again, but mostly he kept quiet and his head down. Gordon had been taken to a higher security prison last week. The investigation had finally gone back to him, and his idiot lackeys, who also had been moved. No longer having to deal with Walker made for a safer atmosphere, but the emptiness made for lonely afternoons and nights. The mornings were spent working in the laundry room, as he had refused to return the kitchens; they reminded him too much of Benny. Hard labor in the laundry room took his mind off of Castiel’s and Benny’s absence.

 

Sam too, had seemingly fell off of the face of the planet. He hadn’t even gotten a phone call about the wedding, which had happened recently. Only a few days ago if he remembered correctly. He figured that Sam was on his Honeymoon, and that was why he hadn’t heard from him either. He was a lonely isle in this too quit hell. A visit from his mother would have even been welcome, even if it would have been awkward.

 

Dean sighed heavily, feeling his shoulders slump downward, as if they were being weighed down by heavy weights. He wasn’t sure what else to do; he needed to make a new friend in here so he wasn’t losing his damn mind, but then he only had three more months. He needed Sam to visit him and _tell_ him that he was to get out early. He needed that more than anything. Then he could visit Castiel in person, and make sure everything was alright. The letter penned, Dean stuffed it inside an envelope, and it was only then that he remembered he had Castiel’s phone number.

 

He could _call_ Cas.

 

Leaving the letter on the desk, Dean spun on his heel and rushed off towards the phones to wait in line so he could check in on Cas. Luckily for him, the phones were moving quickly, so he was soon listening to Castiel’s cell phone ring.

 

And ring.

 

And ring.

 

_You’ve reached Castiel, sorry i’m not at the phone right now. Just leave your name, number, and message at the tone, and I will call you back. Have a nice day._

 

Castiel’s voicemail made him smile; only Cas would tell someone calling him to have a nice day. Before the tone could sound, Dean hung up and tried again. Still, the phone rang three times, and nothing, and still, Dean did not leave a message. He called Castiel’s cell phone six times in a row, and it was all the same. No answer, and he did not bother to leave a voicemail.

 

Cas had said he had phone anxiety, but Dean was sure he would have picked up if he had been around. Having no choice but to hang up and finally walk away, Dean set the phone back in its cradle and slowly turned to walk away. He wanted the phone to ring, but it remained silent as he continued on his way.

 

☣☢☣☢

 

February 14th. Valentine’s Day.

 

No letter from Castiel. No phone call, and Cas had yet to answer his phone. No visits. Dean had grown so worried that he was finally calling Sam, to see if he could find something out. This was not like Cas. Something was _wrong_ , and Dean needed to know what. Sam answered on the third ring.

 

“Hey Dean,” Sam greeted once the call accepted.

 

“Sammy, hey- I um, I need a favor,” he said quietly.

 

“What kind of favor?”

 

He gulped nervously, “It’s about Cas. I haven’t heard from him since he came to visit on Christmas Eve, and I’m real worried. Could you do some digging for me? Please? He hasn’t answered his phone at all, and I’m just really worried about him.”

 

“Yeah,” came Sam’s response. “I’ll get back to you.”

 

“Thanks, Sammy,” he whispered. The call ended. Dean turned his eyes to the windows. _Please God let him be alive and well._

 

☣☢☣☢

 

The house at the end of the cul-de-sac was made of brick, with a darkly painted door, the glass above revealing the fancy chandelier inside. There was a Prius sitting in the driveway, covered in a significant amount of snow, clearly it had not been cleaned off and used recently. The icy snow crunched as Sam walked up to the front door to ring the doorbell. The house seemed still, too still, as if it were in mourning. He rang the bell again, starting to doubt that anyone was even home, but finally, the door opened and a haggard man with amber eyes stared up at him tiredly.

 

“Hello,” he greeted slowly. “My name is Sam Winchester, are you Gabriel Novak?”

 

The man frowned slightly. “Yeah, what’s it to ya?”

 

“Well, I’ve come to ask after Castiel. Is he alright? I apologize, I’m sure this question seems rude. I’m asking on the behalf of my brother, Dean Winchester? He hasn’t heard from Castiel, and asked me to possibly find out for him.” Sam shifted from foot to foot, tempted to blow on his fingers; this winter had been the coldest they had had in a long time.

 

If it were possible, Gabriel seemed to pale further, but he stepped aside anyway. “Come in,” he said slowly. “No sense in letting all of the heat out. You want something to eat or drink?”

 

“Oh, no thank you,” Sam replied, knocking his shoes free of snow before entering the house. Once the door was shut and re-locked, Sam was taken to the kitchen to have a seat at the dining table. “I take it that Castiel is not alright.”

 

Gabriel sighed, covering his face for a minute before dropping his hands lifelessly to the table. “He’s very sick,” he replied heavily. “He’s been in and out of the hospital since after New Year’s. He was in remission for… I don’t know…” Gabriel shook his head. “Not long enough, before he was back in the hospital to be treated. They said the cancer was very aggressive, so he’s been undergoing intense treatments to try and nip it in the bud. But he’s _very_ ill. He hasn’t been home since January 10th.”

 

Sam stared at Gabriel in horror; whilst he was glad that Castiel was not _dead_ \- which had been his first assumption - hearing that the boy was still ill did not bode well either. “Do they think he’ll be okay?”

 

“Well, the cancer is slowly coming back under control and they’re trying their damndest to get rid of it completely, but he’s crazy tired. You can see it all over his face when you look at him-” Gabriel cut off to gulp back some visible emotion. “He um… he’s having a hard time right now, fighting it. And since he’s so immunocompromised, they’re really worried he may have an infection that is making him worse, so they’re giving him a ton of antibiotics too.”

 

“I’m _so_ sorry,” Sam said sincerely. “Is there a number that Dean could possibly speak to him on? I know he’s sick, I’m sure phone calls are the _last_ thing on your mind, or his, but it would mean a lot to Dean. If not, forget I asked.” He mustered up a guilty face, which was hard, since he realized as soon as he asked, how insensitive his question probably was.

 

“Yes,” Gabriel replied tiredly. Sam watched as Gabriel stood and shuffled over to a bulletin board, removing a business card with a phone number written on the back. “That’s his room number, and the hospital number to call.”

 

“Do you need this?” Sam asked, reaching to take the card.

 

There was a moment where Gabriel look tired and defeated. When he said his next statement, Sam felt his heart break. “No. I’ve… I’ve got it all memorized.”

 

He nodded, putting the card in his inner coat pocket. “If there is _anything_ I can do, please, don’t hesitate to ask or call. I’ll give you my number if you want-”

 

“Not to be rude,” Gabriel cut him off, sounding irritated. “But there isn’t anything you can do, and I need to get some sleep, so please… It’s time for you to leave now.”

 

Sam tried not to flinch. “Of course. I’m sorry.” He gave Gabriel a respectful nod, and then he hurried from the house back to his car. Sitting behind the wheel, Sam removed the business card and stared at the hospital room number. The decision struck him firmly. The wheels of his car screeched when he pulled out of the driveway.

 

☣☢☣☢

 

The hospital smelled like death.

 

Death and fresh paint. They had been renovating recently. The nurses were very kind and helpful, showing him the way to Castiel’s room. The boy had a room to himself, Sam noted as he was led inside. There were so many monitors beeping and making noise, it was no wonder Castiel looked exhausted in the bed, he probably couldn’t fall asleep with all of the goings on. The stark white bed made him look smaller than he really was, his wrists and hands almost skeletal from how much weight he had lost due to the cancer more or less eating him alive.

 

However, despite his condition, Castiel still had a weak smile on his face for him. That was promising. Sam sat down in a chair next to Castiel’s bed, not able to stop himself from reaching over to touch Castiel’s hand.

 

“Did they have you scrub down?” Castiel asked him sleepily.

 

“Yeah,” Sam replied with a shrug. He had on scrubs, since they didn’t want anyone bringing anything into Castiel’s room that could make him sick, even if he were on fifty different medications to keep him healthy. “But it’s no big deal.”

 

“How did you find out… about me?”

 

“Dean called, and said he hadn’t heard from you in a while, and um... Well, I went to your house, to see if you were okay, and Gabriel gave me your number. I figured I should just come and see you myself.”

 

A pained expression passed over Castiel’s face. “You should tell Dean… that I’m … sorry.”

 

“Well, I figured you’d like to tell him yourself,” Sam replied with a small smile. Grabbing the phone, Sam dialed the prison, since they knew this was an emergency, they would bring Dean to the line hopefully fastidiously. “Just a sec, Cas.”

 

Castiel nodded and shut his eyes, breathing in raggedly.

 

Sam bit his lip and waited, before finally Dean answered. “Hey, I’m sitting here with him. You want- Yeah. I’m sitting here with Cas.”

 

Castiel opened his eyes and held his hand out for the phone.

 

“He wants to talk to you Dean,” Sam said. “Okay-” He handed the phone over to Castiel, slowly getting up to he could give them some privacy. “I’ll be outside Cas, okay?” When Castiel nodded, Sam walked out of the room to leave them alone.

 

☣☢☣☢

 

“Cas?” Dean asked, his heart thrumming in his chest so quickly he could hardly feel it.

 

“Hello Dean,” Castiel answered tiredly.

 

“Oh, thank God,” he whispered, ready to collapse from relief. “Cas, where have you been?”

 

There was a pause and he could hear Castiel struggling to breathe for a moment, before he answered slowly and methodically, as if talking cost him a lot of energy, “I’m very sick. I’m in the hospital.”

 

“But. But you were in remission?” He couldn’t stop the sentence from ending as a question. Cas had been in remission with a clean bill of healthy not that long ago. Why was he sick again?

 

Another long pause before the answer came, “The cancer came back… They said that a small piece must have been behind somewhere… in my….” Castiel paused to take a breath. “Blood.”

 

“The cancer’s back?” Dean whispered.

 

“Yes.”

 

Dean could feel his throat closing up as his emotions slammed him at one thousand miles per hour. Biting back tears, Dean continued, “You’re gonna be okay, Cas.”

 

“I’m… very tired… Dean,” Castiel whispered, sounding defeated.

 

His tongue ached from all of the biting Dean had to do to keep the tears away. Staying strong for Cas was his number one priority. “I know, Baby,” he whispered, going ahead and using the petname. “I know you’re tired, but you’ve got a whole life to live. _Don’t_ let this disease take you away from your family… and your friends….” He gulped, his voice finally breaking slightly, “And me.”

 

Ragged breathing filled his ears for a few minutes. “I’m sorry, Dean,” Castiel whispered. “I’ll try.”

 

Dean grasped onto the phone’s cord and swallowed a few times to keep from sobbing. The wall felt cool against his forehead. “Cas, you gotta keep going, okay? You can’t give up because the race ain’t over. You’re still in the lead, Baby, you gotta keep running. You’re a fuckin’ champion, you’re gonna be _fine_. You just have to keep kicking ass, okay? _Please_ , Cas. Please don’t go.”

 

When Castiel spoke again, Dean could hear his smile, even if it seemed weak. “I promise, Dean. I will try. For you.”

 

Stomach jumping, heart pounding, Dean continued to fight his tears; he wanted to gasp and sob, but he held it all back. “Good, Baby, you keep trying. You’re doin’ _so_ good. I’m proud of you.”

 

“I’m… proud of _you_ ,” Castiel gasped.

 

He sniffed. “Nah, I ain’t done nothin’-”

 

“That… is a lie…” Castiel paused to breathe. “You have done so much for me. Thank you, Dean. For being my friend. For opening your… heart to me.”

 

This time, he had to wipe his eyes, and his voice shook when he answered him. “You too, Baby. I’m glad we’re friends. And we’re gonna keep on bein’ friends, because you’re gonna be fine. Remember, what I told you? First thing I’m gonna do when I get out is kiss you.”

 

“Dean,” Castiel whispered, “It’s okay to cry.”

 

The floodgates fell apart as soon as Castiel gave permission. First his eyes grew teary and hot, followed by his lower lip trembling, and then he had to pull the phone away for a moment so he could gasp and cry against the wall. Once he had better control of his voice, Dean started talking again, “You’re gonna beat this. You _are_.”

 

“Okay,” Castiel muttered in agreement, but Dean had a feeling that Cas was just trying to placate him.

 

“I’m serious Cas Because you’re strong, I know you don’t think you are, but you _are_. You’re _so_ strong, Baby. And I’m honored to know you. I’m _proud_ to know you. Never forget that, alright?”

 

“Okay,” Castiel whispered again. “I’m very sleepy Dean, I need to go now.”

 

“You _wake_ up, Cas,” he growled fiercely. “You sleep but you wake up later, okay? No checking out early, that isn’t allowed. I’ve got three months, and in three months I’m gonna kiss you breathless, got it?”

 

“Do you… promise?” Castiel questioned.

 

“Yes. I _swear_.”

 

The smile returned to Cas’ voice, “Good. I will see you soon then.”

 

“That’s right. See you soon.” Dean waited for the line to end, not wanting to hang up first. He stood there and listened to the dial tone until the voice was telling him to hang up. his session was over. The phone felt heavy in his hands when he hung it up, still pressing his forehead into the wall. His stomach felt uneasy and his bladder ached suddenly; he needed to pee. The walk to the bathroom took so long that he barely made it in time, but Dean felt numb. He could barely lift his feet to move them one in front of the other. The world was spinning and he was standing still; he was in a silent and empty room, screaming his lungs out, and no one could hear him.

 

Castiel was sick. From the sound of it, deathly sick.

 

He ended up putting a dent in the paper towel dispenser, and his knuckles were black and blue, but the pain made him forget. His hands throbbed and he welcome the pain as he glared at his reflection. Why did Castiel have to suffer _more_? What had he done to deserve this pain? He loved unconditionally and opened his heart to strangers, to help make their days better. Cas was a _saint_ , and he did not deserve this. He turned angry eyes to the ceiling.

 

“Why?” he snapped angrily at God. “Why him, huh?! Don’t you take him from me, you hear me?! He doesn’t deserve that, not now! He’s gotta his whole fuckin’ life ahead of him, and he deserves the world. Got it? You got plenty of angels, _don’t_ take mine.”

 

God did not return his call.

 

☣☢☣☢

 

“Because I don’t know if he’s gonna make it Bobby! I will do _anything_. Anything for this, this _one_ time… Look, I know I’m almost out, but I don’t know how he’s gonna be in April. One day is all I’m asking for Bobby, just _one day_.” Dean stared at Bobby with as much pain he could muster - which was quite a lot since this meant the world to him. He had been begging for furlough for the past hour and a half. Part of him believed Castiel would be fine, but the bigger - more rational and pessimistic part - figured that Castiel could possibly not make it until he was released. If that were the case, he wanted to see him one more time. “Bobby, please.”

 

Bobby sighed and ran a hand over his face. “I will put the paperwork in, and try to move you to the top, but I can’t _promise_ nothin’, got it? Don’t hold me to this.”

 

He could have collapsed with half relief; if Booby put the paperwork in and moved it along, he would surely be granted furlough. He could then see Cas in the hospital. “ _Thank_ you, Bobby. Thank you.”

 

“Go on, get outta here, I gotta get this goin’ if you wanna see the kid so damn bad.”

 

Dean nodded again, before turning and leaving the office to rush down the hallway. Even if he were granted only a day, that day would be better than none at all. He would kiss Castiel, even if it violated any type of parole he happened to be on while out, he didn’t care. He had promised Cas a kiss, and he was going to get one. Flying down the hallway, past inmates and guards alike, Dean came to the phone to give Sam one more phone call. He would need a ride from jail to the hospital if this went through.

 

“Dean,” Sam greeted slowly when the call accepted. “What’s up?”

 

“Hey man… Um, so-... I asked Bobby for furlough, and I might be getting it, so I’m gonna need a ride and place to crash. Just so you know.” Dean glanced over his shoulder nervously, since there were inmates leering. When someone was granted furlough, or even had the _possibility_ of furlough, it spread like wildfire, and everyone wanted in on it.

 

“That’s great!” Sam exclaimed. “Yeah, I can pick you up, you can use my address. No problem.”

 

“Thanks, Sammy. How is he, do you know?” He had just spoken to Cas, but that had been almost six days ago. A lot could change in six days. For better or for worse.

 

“I don’t, but I’ll give the hospital a call or Gabriel and see what’s up, okay? Let me know if you’re granted furlough.”

 

“I will.” Dean nodded and glanced back at the guys leering at him again. “I gotta go, I’m gettin’ the stank eye.”

 

“Sure. Bye, Dean.”

 

“Bye.” This time, Dean hung up first and turned to face them. “What?”

 

“Furlough, huh?”

 

Dean took his visitors in, trying to remember names - the first guy, the one who had addressed him was near his height, sandy hair, blue eyes, and high cheek bones - he was fairly certain his name was Adam. The guy next to him stood an inch or two taller than both of them, his skin a deep brown, the color of roasted hazelnuts, his hair cropped short and close to his head; he went by the name Raphael, even though it wasn’t his legal name according to the rumor mill, but since no one knew his real name, everyone - even the guards - called him Raphael. He was a mean son of a bitch with a voice that could have been God’s.

 

“Not your business,” Dean replied angrily, ready to walk around both of them, but Raphael came to stand in his way. “Look, I don’t want trouble, alright? My friend is dying, and he’s just a fuckin’ kid, so cut me some damn slack.”

 

“My brother lay dying in his home, yet you did not see me being granted furlough to see him before he passed,” Raphael said, his voice thick and rich like chocolate, but there was a steely edge that made Dean wary.  

 

“I can’t help that you didn't get furlough, alright? It’s not even a done deal, so _back_ off.”

 

They continued to stare one another down, but Dean did not look away or blink, not wanting to show fear. His father had been the one to teach him that showing fear made you weak, but lately Dean had been feeling honestly terrified - terrified that Castiel would die, terrified that he would somehow not get to him before it was too late, and terrified that someone would muck up his chances of freedom by pushing his buttons too hard. Like right now. But, as divine intervention would have it (he was pretty sure it was divine intervention), Raphael backed off, and they let him pass.

 

He knew that people didn’t just ask for furlough and have it granted; he knew that hardly anyone was granted furlough at all, but he would fight tooth and nail to be the first to ask be granted in the same day. He refused to not see Castiel before something terrible happened.

 

The rest of his day went by like it always did; he worked in the laundry room, had a break, ate dinner, and went to rest in his bunk for the evening. It wasn’t until nine in the evening that Rufus came to escort him to Bobby’s office. Heart hammering away in his chest, Dean was certain he could have run to the beat, but he remained with Rufus’ pace until they came to Bobby’s office, and then he was just throwing the door open and coming to stand in front of the desk.

 

“Well?” he demanded, which was probably not the best way to greet Bobby, especially if he had gotten Dean the favor, but he couldn’t stop himself.

 

“You got your furlough,” Bobby replied gruffly. “Next Friday through Sunday. Then your ass is back in here, got it? That was as soon as I could make it happen.”

 

For a moment, Dean stammered because - again - _no_ one was granted furlough in the same day they asked, but here he was, being granted furlough the same day he had asked. “Holy shit, are you serious?”

 

“Do I look like I’m jokin’, idjit?” Bobby snapped. “You screw this up and it’s on _my_ ass, so you better keep those piggies in line, got it?”

 

“Yes, Sir,” he replied with a smile. “ _Thank_ you.”

 

“Yeah, get outta here, I’m exhausted, I want to go home. And you’re out of bounds, go.”

 

“I’d hug you but I'm sure you’d shoot me, so… Thanks, Bobby.” Dean gave the old man another smile, and then he and Rufus were walking back to his bunk. He wanted to call Sam, but he would have to wait until the morning. Next Friday. He was going to see Cas next week, which was still a while away, but it was better than not at all. This next week would probably not go fast enough.

 

☣☢☣☢

 

The phone was ringing at five in the morning, and for a moment, Gabriel couldn’t breathe as he checked to see if the caller ID told him it was the hospital calling. Relief flooded through him when he did not recognize the number, but he answered anyway. It was probably a wrong number. “Hello?” he greeted tiredly.

 

“Gabriel?” came a voice he semi-recognized.

 

“Yeah, this is him… Who is this?” He glanced at the phone again, but the number had disappeared. Who the hell was calling him five in the damn morning?

 

“I’m sorry to wake you, it’s Sam Winchester. I um… I got your number out of the phone book- um… again, sorry, but the reason I’m calling is that, Dean, is going to be released on furlough to visit with Castiel, but according to the rules, we have to double check to make sure that’s fine with you since you’re his medical proxy.” Sam paused to cough and shift around on the other line, clearly nervous. “I hope that he _can_ visit, since that was the whole point of this… Is Castiel up for visitors, by chance?”

 

Gabriel felt his teeth clench in anger; Sam had visited Castiel without his permission, _and_ he had allowed his criminal brother to talk to Cas while he was in distress. Supposedly, the phone call had made Cas perk up but he did not approve of this relationship. It had been fine when it had only been letter correspondence, but now it was turning into something _more_. He could tell by the way Castiel snuck off to talk to Ruby about Dean, or how he never revealed the letters to anyone. The way Castiel spoke on Dean, and his desire to see him _alone_. Castiel was just a boy, and Gabriel realized that he was going to have to put his foot down. The only way he knew how to keep Dean from seeing Castiel again would be to lie.

 

“Mr. Winchester, I am going to ask you not to call this number again… and I’m sorry but-...” Gabriel paused and began to think on what he was about to say; the very thought brought tears to his eyes and voice. “Castiel pas-.... He passed away.”

 

There was silence on the other end of the line.

 

Guilt immediately ate at him; he had just told a friend of Castiel’s that he was _dead_. What kind of person lied about someone’s death? Especially when their death could very well be arriving soon. But he had said it, and he couldn’t take it back now.

 

“He’s dead?” Sam whispered, shocked. “Oh my God-I’m sorry-I’m so sorry-.... I’ll-I’ll let you go… I’m sorry-” The line went dead.

 

Gabriel hung up quickly and dropped his knuckles to his wooden bed frame, and knocked twenty times. If Castiel ever found out about this lie, he would never forgive him, but this relationship _had_ to end with Dean. It wasn’t healthy, in Gabriel’s opinion, and Michael had felt the same way. For once, he and his older brother had agreed on something, and he figured that if they agreed on this one thing, that it should be dealt with swiftly. There would be plenty of time for Castiel to make new friends, because Cas was strong and would overcome this bout of illness.

 

He had Ruby, and he had him, _and_ he had his cats. There was no need for someone like Dean. Satisfied with his conclusions, Gabriel set the phone back down and settled back onto the mattress. Sleep avoided him at first, but eventually Gabriel relaxed enough to slip into a semblance of sleep. Unfortunately, his dreams were haunted by Castiel’s funeral.

 

☣☢☣☢

 

“Sammy!” Dean practically tackled his younger brother once he was outside in civilian’s clothing. “Holy shit, it’s good to see you, married man.” Sam’s smile was tight lipped, and immediately Dean picked up on something being _wrong_. “What is it?”

 

“Dean, I have bad news,” Sam said slowly. “It’s about Cas.”

 

He frowned. “What about, Cas? Is he alright?” He couldn’t be-

 

“He passed away a few days ago… I called Gabriel, on his home phone, he said Cas had died.”

 

The world went from technicolor to grayscale in a manner of seconds. Dean looked around him, trying to take in the fact that he had been about to climb into a car to visit Cas, and now that car was going to take him somewhere else. Probably to the funeral. He was too late, and his world grew a bit smaller. Furlough didn’t really _matter_ anymore, because he had been too late. A lump the size of a goose egg filled his throat, and he had to choke back tears.

 

“No,” he said firmly. “No- _no_ -” Sam’s arms were wrapping around him, and Dean screamed in agony. They were crumpling to the ground. The word _no_ slipped passed his lips like a prayer, and Sam rubbed his back in comfort. Castiel couldn’t be _dead_. He had been too good, and it wasn’t _fair_. He wanted to go to the hospital, to see for himself. To _know_ for himself. “Take me to the hospital,” he muttered once he gained control of his voice.

 

“Dean-”

 

“Just do it, Sam. I have to know for myself. He’s probably still there.” Dean clenched his fists in anger, trying to remain calm. Sam helped him into the car, where Dean settled into the seat to stare out the window in silence. The outside world had been so mystical to him earlier, and now he barely cared as they passed building after building; all of the new places he had yet to explore. Those were material things that just didn’t matter anymore. Without Castiel’s light, his life pulsing in this world, a lot of things had ceased to matter; as if his life’s cord had been severed along with Cas’.

 

Castiel had taught him so much.

 

How _beautiful_ it was to exist, and how rare it was to find someone to exist and be with. For a kid of only eighteen, he had known so much, and he had deserved even more. Cas had given him courage - courage to live, courage to be more than just a grunt in jail, courage to see the universe in a whole new way. Cas had taught him that the world was meant for him too, and they both deserved to live in it equally.

 

But now Cas was gone.

 

His beautiful light snuffed out in a matter of seconds, shoved under life’s rug like he had never mattered. Like Benny. Once more, Dean had to fight back tears, but Sam was pulling up in front of the hospital entrance to drop him off, so shakily Dean got out of the car and made his way inside. Approaching the first nurses’ station he could find, Dean waited patiently for someone to notice him.

 

“Can I help you, Sir?” a nurse with blonde hair asked him.

 

Her nametag read _Jo_. “Hi… um, I’m here to-to ask after a patient. Castiel Novak. His name is-... was, Castiel Novak.” For being so upset, Dean was fairly impressed with how steady his voice sounded.

 

“Oh? Cas?” Jo smiled. “He checked out this morning.”

 

Dean blinked. Unless he was severely behind in the times, he was pretty sure ‘checked out’ meant he had left the hospital alive, not dead. “He, he what?”

 

“You just missed him, actually. About an hour ago,” she replied. “He’s doing a lot better.”

 

“I… I was under the impression that he had-had passed away,” Dean stammered weakly, his head feeling light and his stomach nauseous.

 

“Passed away? What? Oh _no_ ,” Jo assured him quickly. “I checked him out myself, wheeled him out in a wheelchair. He’s got his color back, and the chemotherapy they had him on really helped. He’s still a bit fluey from the infection he had, but the antibiotics are still working. I guess after he had a phone call with a friend of his, he really perked up. It was amazing, it was like flipping on a switch. Excuse me, I have to go now, but he’s fine. I promise.”

 

Dean wanted to hug her; he wanted to hug her until she couldn’t breathe and her spine cracked, but instead he spun around and rushed back outside. He ended up literally running into Sam on the way out. “Sam-”

 

“Whoa,” Sam said, grasping onto his biceps. “Where’s the fire, Dean?”

 

“Cas is _alive_ , he checked out this morning, we gotta go to his house. C’mon.” Dean grabbed onto Sam’s arm and began to pull him along.

 

“He-wait-whoa. Hold on.” Sam stopped him by grabbing the back of his coat, before walking to stand in front of him. “What do you mean, he checked out this morning?”

 

“That’s what the nurse said. She said she checked out Castiel Novak herself. Okay? She wasn’t lying-... Gabriel lied, but I don’t have time to think about that now, let’s go!” The world was once again restored to three-dimensional color. Cas was _alive_ and nothing else mattered. He would deal with Gabriel’s lies later, for now he wanted to see Castiel alive for himself. “Sam!”

 

Sam sighed and followed him back to the car, but he was still hung up on the lie. “Why would Gabriel tell me that Cas passed away, when he didn’t?”

 

“I don’t know man, but if you don’t put your pedal to the metal, I’m gonna punch you in the nose,” he replied seriously. “C’mon.” He knew that Sam did not drive like he tended to, but this was important. “Please, Sammy?”

 

Clearly still bothered, Sam did hurry along, even speeding slightly over the speed limit to make it to Castiel’s neighborhood. Dean was taken aback by how _nice_ the houses were, like Sam’s even. Suddenly, Dean realized he most definitely did not fit in here; he wasn’t as educated, he didn’t dress for this type of lifestyle, and he sure as hell did not have the personality for it. Whatever Castiel saw in him, Dean hoped he could keep it up. Once Sam had pulled into the driveway, Dean slid out of the car, and walked up to the door, his stomach doing gymnastics. Castiel was alive, and now he could only hope that Castiel was home too.

 

He rang the bell once.

 

Suspense gripped tightly and caused his stomach to feel upset, and his bladder to feel as if it could burst, but soon there was movement on the other side of the door. It opened slowly, as if the person behind was unsure if they should open it at all. Then he was looking down at Gabriel Novak, and suddenly, Dean felt _angry_. How dare this man tell him that Castiel was _dead_ , when Castiel was alive.

 

“Who are you?” Gabriel asked.

 

“I’m Dean Winchester, where’s Cas? I went to the hospital to see for myself, and the nurse said he checked out this morning. Where is he? Is he alright?” Dean glowered. “What kind of sick fuck tells a lie about his brother being dead? Huh?”

 

The glower was equally returned. “I do not approve of your relationship with my brother, nor do I think it is appropriate that he be friends with a grown man, who has been in jail for ten years!”

 

“Well tough luck? He’s eighteen, he can make his own damn choices,” Dean snarled.

 

“If you do not get off of my property right now, I will call the police,” Gabriel replied.

 

“Gabe? Who’s at the door?” came Castiel’s voice from inside the house.

 

The same time Gabriel said, “No one,” Dean called Castiel’s name. He held his breath as he heard footsteps quickly coming down stairs, and then Castiel was peering over Gabriel’s shoulder. A relieved and truly happy smile filled Dean’s face.

 

“Dean!” Castiel cried, slipping past his brother in favor of going to throw his arms around him instead.

 

Dean wrapped his own arms around Castiel tightly, lifting him up and spinning in a circle, tears falling from his eyes in relief and joy. Once he set Castiel back down on the porch, he cupped Cas’ handsome face in both of his hands, and leaned into kiss him chastely on the mouth. Not long after he felt his body being yanked back, and a very angry Gabriel Novak came to separate them gesticulating wildly. But Dean kept his eyes on Cas, smiling, and in awe. His angel was alive and not in Heaven. He was _here_ , alive and looking a little thin, but he was _fine_.

 

“Gabriel, stop it!” Castiel yelled, pushing his brother away before Gabriel hauled back to punch Dean in the face. “Stop it! What is _wrong_ with you?!”

 

“You are my brother, Cas, and he is not good enough for you,” Gabriel replied hotly. “Michael and I agree, and I think that that is a sign-”

 

“Did he tell you, Cas?” Dean asked then. It wasn’t necessarily right for him to tell Gabriel’s secret, but his anger had the better of him at the moment.

 

“Tell me what?” Castiel asked in turn.

 

“ _Don’t_ you dare,” Gabriel growled.

 

“What’s going on?” Castiel looked between both his brother and Dean, clearly confused and alarmed. “Gabe? What is Dean talking about?”

 

“Nothing, Cas-”

 

“Sammy called him,” Dean said loudly, talking over Gabriel. “I was granted furlough, obviously, and we needed permission for me to come and see you. So, Sam called your brother up.” Dean gave Gabriel a nasty look, which was returned to him tenfold. “He had the nerve to tell Sam that you were dead, Cas. Just so I wouldn't come and see you. Joke’s on him.”

 

Dean watched Castiel’s face go from confused to completely horrified. “You-you _told_ them that I was _dead_?” he whispered.

 

“Cas… It’s complicated,” Gabriel tried to say but words were failing him. “I just-I didn’t want you to see him anymore, and-”

 

“So you _lied_?!” Castiel gasped. “You _lied_ about me being _alive_?!”

 

“Cas-”

 

“I _hate_ you!” Castiel yelled vehemently.

 

Castiel’s words may as well have slapped Gabriel in the face, from the look he gave. He even took a step back, as if the words had shoved him, and perhaps they had. Dean could feel the wedge growing between Castiel and Gabriel. He watched as Castiel took a step closer to him, and while he wanted to reach out and wrap an arm around Cas’ waist possessively, now was not the time.

 

“Cas, you don’t mean that,” Gabriel whispered. His brows furrowed together in pain, and his eyes filled with unshed tears. The raw emotion was replaced with a hurried mask, as if - like Dean - Gabriel was used to hiding his real feelings.

 

“Did you?” Castiel quipped in return, his voice like ice.

 

“Of course not!” Gabriel exclaimed. “Cas, I lied to protect you-”

 

Castiel shook his head and touched his chest, “You don’t know what’s best for me, only _I_ know what’s best for me! I’m not a kid anymore Gabriel, you can’t control my every move!”

 

“Cas, you are _barely_ legal. You don’t _know_ what’s best for you-”

 

“Neither do you!” Castiel’s voice had risen to that shrill tone that made his voice crack. “Dean is my friend, and I care about him, and I am _going_ to go out with him, whether you want me to or not. How _dare_ you to tell him I was dead? How dare you!?” He shook his head in disgust. “Fuck you, Gabe.”

 

“Cas,” Dean muttered, realizing that perhaps they had taken this too far. “C’mon, it’s okay… I mean it’s _not_ okay, I just think that you should work it out gently…”

 

Castiel stubbornly shook his head. “I’m going to get my shoes and coat, Dean, I'll be out in a minute,” he said, his eyes never leaving Gabriel, before he turned to head back inside.

 

Silence fell onto the porch and Dean looked away, feeling guilty for telling Castiel Gabriel's lie. He would talk to Cas later, when he had calmed down, see if they could straighten things out. When Cas returned, Gabriel stared at the porch, but Dean saw some of his tears escaping.

 

“I’ll have him back by ten, is that alright?” Dean asked, keeping his voice gentle.

 

Gabriel nodded. “Cas, you shouldn’t be going out yet-”

 

“I’m _fine_ ,” Castiel snapped. “I feel fine.”

 

Another nod. “Well, at least stay inside where it’s warm…”

 

“Don’t act like you care,” Castiel replied, before taking Dean by the hand and pulling him down the porch steps towards Sam’s car. “I’m _really_ sorry, Dean.”

 

He shook his head. “I’m just glad you’re okay…. you _are_ okay, right? You feel okay? The nurse said you were still kinda fluey…”

 

“I feel fine right now. I have my medicine. As long as I don’t exert myself too much.” Castiel smiled and hugged him again around the waist. “I’m so glad to see you.”

 

It was his turn to feel hot tears fill his eyes. “You got no idea, Cas,” he whispered before opening Castiel’s door. He climbed in after him, wrapping an arm around Cas’ shoulders, which allowed for them to stay close in the backseat. Dean wanted to keep Cas warm, and quite frankly, he didn’t want to let go of him, since this would only be for the weekend, and then he would be back in jail until April. Just a few more months.

 

Then, they could do _this_ as much as they wanted.

 

Dean smiled at the thought.

 

 


	14. Bedroom Hymns

Dean smelled of earth and leather, with a hint of soap; it was a very _masculine_ combination, and it made him ridiculously horny. They were at Sam’s house - alone after Dean had begged - and he had come to straddle Dean’s lap, his nose buried in Deans’ neck, chest, and hair. Dean had showered and now he smelled wonderful. Dean’s arms were wrapped around him protectively, as if Dean could forcibly keep him together if he started to fall apart. Not that he was going to fall apart. He felt fine.

 

“Why are you so sexy?” Dean growled in his ear, his teeth grazing along the pulse in his neck. “No one should be this sexy, it should be illegal.”

 

“Look who’s talking,” Castiel replied, his own hands not remaining idle. They slipped underneath the hem of Dean’s shirt, damp from the shower, to splay along his stomach and chest. Dean’s stomach was slightly soft, but he liked that about Dean; he liked that he wasn’t all rock hard and muscles, but he had some softness to him too. When Castiel started to touch and rub his hands along his tummy, Dean grunted. “What?”

 

“Ticklish,” Dean admitted with a deep blush.

 

“ _Oh_ ,” he replied with a grin. “I’ll just store that piece of info away for later.” That earned him a dark look but Castiel leaned down to kiss Dean’s pout away. They had barely stopped kissing since they had climbed into the car earlier. Dean had been teaching him how to kiss right, and they were still working on chaste, mouths closed kisses, but with each one, he could tell that Dean grew more ansty with the want to deepen the kiss and make them more.

 

“You know, for a virgin, you sure do kiss good,” Dean complimented with a wink.

 

Face hot, Castiel bit his lip and looked at Dean shyly. “Dean?”

 

“Hm?”

 

“I want to,” he whispered.

 

“Want to, what?” Dean asked, his hands lightly cupping Castiel’s hips.

 

“Have sex… I want to have sex.” He made sure to say the sentence confidently, so Dean did not think he was just saying it to cause Dean surprise, even if Dean did stare at him as if he had lost his mind. “What?”

 

“Sex-you want to-??” Dean asked, his eyes widening.

 

“Yes. I’ve thought about it, and I want to. I really do.” He leaned into Dean’s space so he could kiss him again, but Dean did not kiss him back. Stiffening slightly, Castiel felt his heart beat a little faster, and his stomach drop. Had he just ruined his chances?

 

“Um-Cas-... Hold on. Hold on.” Dean eased him off of his lap so they could look at each other more fully without touching. “Okay, first of all, while I am _flattered_ to think that you would want to have sex with… and while I’m also… _tempted_ to say yes-”

 

“Then why not?” he cut Dean off impatiently. “Dean, age is just a number, you don’t need to get hung up on how young I am. You’re not _old_ , I don’t see you as old.” The blush on Dean’s face covered his cheeks, ears, and ran down to disappear down his shirt, along his neck. Making Dean flustered, while satisfying, was also frustrating. “I really want to.”

 

“I believe you,” Dean whispered a reply. “Um-... Look, Cas, I think we should wait and date a little. I mean, I have to go back to jail on Sunday, and I think it’d be rude if I-took your V-card and ran, you know? Plus-plus-” Dean held up his finger to cut off Castiel’s protest, “ _Plus_ , I don’t have any condoms, and we need them-”  

 

“Why?” he asked incredulously.

 

“ _Because_ ,” Dean said firmly. “You _never_ let someone fuck you without one, got it? I don’t want to make you sick or anything… I mean I don’t know if my- _stuff_ … would make you sick, I don’t know.”

 

“Why would it? You don’t have an STD, do you?” If Dean had an STD they would just have to work around it. He was determined to sleep with Dean before he had to return from furlough; he wasn’t sure _why_. He didn’t know if it was because he worried it would never happen later, or if Dean just made him feel that safe and happy, after Gabriel’s lies. He tried not to think about what Gabriel had done, because it just upset him, so he shoved the thoughts from his mind. Sex. He was going to think about sex.

 

“ _No_ , I don’t have an STD, but-”

 

“Dean, I am eighteen years old. We are both consenting adults. We are allowed to have sex. You don’t have condoms? Then, let’s go buy some. C’mon.” He stood and rushed over to grab his coat from where Dean had hung it up by the front door.

 

“Cas- _wait_ -”

 

He heard Dean clamber after him, but he was already throwing his coat and scarf on. “If you don’t have money, I’ll buy them for you.”

 

 _That_ made Dean look truly embarrassed and ashamed. “No, I don’t have any money,” he whispered in shame. “Cas, I really don’t think this is a good idea.”

 

He huffed a sigh and turned to face Dean in annoyance. “Do you really not want to have sex with me? Because if you don’t, just forget it, we’ll watch a movie or something.”

 

“I just-I think that we should _wait_. Until I get out, we do the dating thing a bit, and _then_ we can have sex. I just- I feel as if we’re jumping the gun and doing this backwards.” Dean slid his hands to Castiel’s shoulders, giving him a gentle squeeze. “Cas, you just got out of the hospital, remember? It’s okay to not have sex with me right away. I can wait. I’ve waited ten years, I can wait a few more months.”

 

“You haven’t had sex in _ten years_?” Castiel stared at him in absolute horror. “Jesus, it must be like _glue_ coming out of you.” Again, Dean’s face flushed, and he ducked his head to look at the floor, muttering a response that Castiel didn’t catch. “What?”

 

“I said that-. Nevermind, okay? It’s not a big deal.”

 

“It _is_ a big deal!” he cried out. “So, if you don’t want to have sex, I think that we should masturbate together.”

 

That made Dean blink in surprise, clearly taken aback. “You wanna _what_?”

 

“That’s not having _sex_ -sex. We’re not having intercourse, that’s just us being intimate. Or, I could give you oral sex. I’ve always wanted to do that-” He had to stop because Dean pressed his fingertips to his lips. Eyes narrowing and sighing, he had no choice but to give up.

 

“Again, _flattered_ , but not right now. Alright?” Dean brushed his coat off, returning it to the coat rack. “Let’s watch a movie.”

 

Castiel sighed heavily. “Okay. If you insist.”

 

“I do insist. Look, not to be _that_ asshole, but… I’m gonna invoke the ‘I’m older than you and know a bit more about this than you do’ card. Just trust me.”

 

That earned Dean a dirty look. “I hope you don’t invoke that card too often, because it’s not funny.” Pulling out of Dean’s grasp, he stormed back down the hallway to plop down on the couch to turn the TV on. Eventually, Dean returned and joined him, shyly wrapping an arm around his shoulders, even muttering an apology in his ear. He sighed and snuggled into Dean’s side. This was better than no Dean at all, he reminded himself. This was better than Dean believing him dead.

 

Honestly, he was still trying to grasp the idea that his brother had _lied_ about him being alive.

 

When Dean had told him the truth, Castiel had felt his feelings shatter. Gabriel had always supported him, he had _always_ been there, ready to sacrifice everything to keep him going. But this betrayal was so deep and sharp, that it left the world reeling, and Castiel felt sick to his stomach when he thought on it. The hurt was so bad, that he had no desire to go home. He would have moved in with anyone else if he could have, but Castiel knew that at the end of the day, he would have to return home, since Dean had made that promise.

 

Before he went home he wanted to forget about Gabriel betraying him by watching Dean masturbate. He turned to look at Dean and just stared at him until Dean glanced over with a raised eyebrow. “I want to watch you touch yourself,” he said firmly, which made Dean sputter.

 

“Cas-”

 

“Please? I won’t say anything, I’ll be quiet, I just want to watch. Nothing wrong with that, right?” he pointed out, giving Dean the Puppy Eyes. They worked on Gabriel when he wanted to get extra candy at the store, this was the same principle, just rated triple x.

 

Dean sighed, running a hand along his entire face, before taking a deep breath. “Okay. Okay.” The TV shut off and then they were walking upstairs to the guest room Dean was staying in. They still had a few hours of alone time, before Jess would come home from her job for the day. It wouldn’t take Dean a few hours to get off.

 

Once they were in the bedroom, with the door shut and locked, Castiel walked over to sit in the large saucer chair, pulling his legs up to his chest, so he wouldn't be right on top of Dean while he took care of himself. Dean kept his back to him while he undressed, stripping all the way down to his boxers, before pausing. He held his breath; Dean could easily back out and say forget it. Dean could take him home _now_ rather than tonight. But no, finally, the boxer shorts were soon on the floor along with his jeans, and then Castiel was getting a full view of Dean’s ass. He had a _very_ nice butt.

  
Dean glanced back to say, “I know my ass is whiter than the damn moon, sorry.”

 

Castiel smirked and covered his mouth so he wouldn’t laugh out loud. “I think you have a very cute butt.”

 

“Well, thank you.” There was another pause while Dean visibly steeled himself to turn around. Immediately Castiel dropped his eyes down Dean’s body; from his hairless chest, to his soft tummy, the v of his hips, the dark curls at the base of his penis, and finally down to where Dean was half stirred. Castiel could see from the chair that Dean was uncut.

 

“Wow,” he whispered. Not only was Dean’s dick uncut, but he was thick too. Dean had a healthy girth, and as those calloused hands began to give himself a few tugs, he saw that he had a nice length too, but he was thicker than he was long. It made Castiel clench and ache; he wanted Dean to fill him until he burst.

 

“I know I ain’t much,” Dean told him shyly.

 

He blinked in surprise. Who had told Dean that he wasn’t much? Because clearly they had been watching too much pornography if they believed Dean wasn’t much to look at. “You look fine,” he told him sincerely. “And… _healthy_.”

 

Dean’s blush traveled all the way to his navel. There was some silence and then Dean was quick to go and lie on the bed, trying to be comfortable, but to also angle himself so that Cas could see. Castiel assured Dean that he could see him just fine, and then he went quiet afterward; he had told Dean he would be quiet, so he shut his mouth to keep that promise. Dean’s thighs parted, his feet planting on the bed, and then his hands began to explore his body; while one of his palms rubbed along his chest, pinching at his nipples, the other slid down to his stomach and hips, fingers creeping along the dip in his pelvis before slowly brushing along his base.

 

Dean teased himself some more before finally allowing his hand to wrap around his dick again, pumping his wrist slowly, and his thumb brushing along his slit. Castiel bit his lip and drew in a breath; it was hot in the room, and breathing was becoming more difficult as he, too, grew aroused. The head of Dean’s cock was shining in the light, and he stared as Dean skimmed his fingers along his foreskin. He could hear Dean breathing harder, and then it wasn’t long before Dean was pumping his wrist a lot faster, his thighs visibly tensing.

 

There was a grunt from Dean’s side of the room, and Castiel gripped the edge of the chair until his knuckles turned white. His own erection throbbed in his jeans, but he ignored himself, despite the desire to run to the bathroom was strong. Dean was so gorgeous like this; pleasuring himself and clearly enjoying his fantasies. The slick sound of Dean jerking his cock filled the room, and Castiel had to bite back a whimper; the wet noises were making this hotter than just by watching, and then when Dean started to pant and make small noises - sighs, and grunts - Castiel felt as if his dick could explode. He was going to come in his jeans.

 

Dean’s hips stuttered and then Castiel slammed his hands over his mouth when Dean let out a low, guttural groan, hot, white, thick come shooting out of Dean in a slow spurt. The jizz ran down Dean’s hands and cock, marking him like white, sticky paint. Thighs falling open uselessly, Dean was still hard in his hand, and he slowed down, teasing his cock, before going back and jerking himself fast again. Another gasp, and once again, Dean’s hand and cock was sticking with thick jizz. Castiel could not keep from whimpering in his seat; he needed to take care of himself now.

 

Dean’s hand slid away from his softening cock, rubbing his thigh, still sticky with come. He watched as Dean shifted so they could look at each other, his eyes heavy and half lidded with pleasure. “Happy?” Dean asked with a small smile.

 

He nodded quickly. “I gotta-um-”

 

“Come here,” Dean whispered.

 

“What?” he asked, taken aback. Dean patted the bed, so Castiel did not ask again; he stood and quickly began to remove his clothes. His boxers were sticking to him with all of the precome he had leaked, but once he was naked, he suddenly felt self conscious; he had lost weight and while he knew he would slowly gain it back, he still felt too thin, too boyish. Dean was a _man_ , and he was just a boy by comparison. His thin stature from being sick only made him feel worse.

 

“Come here, Sexy,” Dean said gently, his clean hand reaching out to him.

 

He crawled onto the bed, allowing Dean to pull him down for a kiss. It wasn’t long before he was on top of Dean, lying along his chest and stomach, his erection trapped between Dean’s pelvis and his stomach. The heat and friction of their bodies moving made him breathe a little harder. Dean wasn’t even touching him sexually, but this was by far the most erotic thing he had ever done. The idea of sex had always been so uninteresting to him, but _now_? Now he wanted to fuck Dean on every single surface until they were both so sore they couldn’t walk.

 

Calloused hands trailed along his side, and Dean eagerly began to cup his ass, rubbing his cheeks gently. The subtle touches made a whimper escape his throat. Dean - as he had imagined - wrote poetry into his skin, trailing his hands all over his body; palms scraped shoulder blades, whispering about _angel wings_ , fingers brushed spinal columns, while a quiet voice counted vertebrae like a mantra. Dean’s lips grazed along his earlobe, nibbling gently, before experienced hands returned to cupping his backside, giving a gentle squeeze. Dean worshipped his skin, bones, and sinew, praising him for being beautiful and perfect. The praise eased the troubles from his mind, and the war going on behind his eyelids ceased; Dean found him beautiful, and no one else’s opinion mattered.

 

Castiel could feel Dean’s stomach expanding with each breath he took in his dick, and he whimpered, wanting Dean to touch him. “Dean, please,” he keened in desperation.

 

“Sit up, Baby.”

 

Immediately, Cas sat up so now Dean could wrap his hand around his cock easily. Lazy and sleepy, Dean began to stroke him, being gentle and going slow, as if he were breakable. It was frustrating and exhilarating all at once. Planting his hands back on Dean’s thighs, Castiel leaned back, allowing his pelvis to thrust forward so Dean could have a better view and grasp. Pleasure bloomed like wildfire in his pelvis and at the base of his dick, his balls aching and pulling up tight. He couldn’t hold back anymore. Dean smiled when he came, clearly pleased as Castiel coated his chest and chin in his own erotic paint.

 

“That’s my Baby,” Dean praised, his hand squeezing to milk the rest out of him. “So pretty.”

 

He whimpered before slowly sitting back up. Dean stared up at him in awe, as if he were somehow divine, as if he were the angel that Dean called him at times. He returned Dean’s lazy smile, and slowly his orgasm ebbed away. Once the warmth passed over him, Castiel realized how chilly he felt, and how dirty they both were - a mutual shower would fix both problems.

 

“Let’s go take a shower,” he suggested.

 

Dean smirked, nodding his consent. “Okay. Come on,” he said. “But no shower sex, that shit is dangerous.” That made them both laugh.

 

“Okay, no shower sex,” he agreed before taking Dean’s hand, helping him stumble to his feet so they could go to the guest room’s bathroom. It was not as nice as the Master Suite’s Dean told him, but it was decent, and the shower had _great_ water pressure. It was only then that Castiel remembered Dean was going to have to return to jail on Sunday; they only had two more days together before he had to return to hell. Back to where the water pressure was most definitely not as nice as this. The thought made him sad, and once they were in the shower, Castiel pulled Dean in for a deep kiss, allowing Dean to slip his tongue inside his mouth.

 

The feeling and sensation was bizarre, but it did not feel as alien as it had felt with Ruby. The kiss felt _welcome_ and warm, as if he had been born to kiss Dean’s lips. A satisfied groan left Dean before he stumbled a few steps closer so Castiel soon found his back pressed against the shower wall. The hot water sprayed over them both, warming his veins, and making them both hot and heavy again soon. Dean’s erection pressed against his hip, pulsing warmth. The desire to touch Dean became overwhelming, and he found his fingers wrapping around that thick girth. The skin was softer than he had first imagined. The noise Dean made when given a gentle squeeze was almost orgasm worthy.

 

He sounded so desperate for Castiel’s touch, like he _needed_ Cas to bring him to orgasm, as if he had been waiting for the past ten years for this. Their teeth scraped against each other’s lips and tongue as they kissed messily. Dean paused in his oral exploration to press their foreheads together, his breathing come in ragged and uneven, even though Castiel’s hand had not moved to stroke or tug at his length. He was still just holding Dean, feeling the pulse in his palm.

 

“You okay?” he asked, wondering if he had hurt Dean somehow.

 

Dean nodded, his eyes squeezed shut, and his breathing slowly calming, but still, Castiel could see he was on edge. “I just-it feels so _good_ ,” Dean growled. “Fucking Christ, you’re not even doing anything to me… It’s just-it’s been so fucking long.”

 

“Do you want me to?” he asked. “I won’t if you think we should stop.”

 

The argument Dean had in his head passed over his face - clearly he wanted to, but the rational side of him was trying to say no. The bestial side ended up winning out, because Dean shook his head. “Keep going,” he gasped. “Please.”

 

Dean did not have to ask him twice. Pumping his wrist slowly, Castiel focused on Dean’s face, watching as he kept his eyes closed, his mouth hanging slack as he groaned. They only paused long enough for Castiel to get some soap in his palm. Starting on Dean’s chest, Castiel rubbed the body wash along his nipples, teasing them mercilessly until Dean cried out and begged him to keep going. Skimming his fingers down Dean’s body again, Castiel rubbed the soap along his stomach and down into the curls at his base, soaping his cock up slowly until Dean was a whimpering and desperate mess.

 

Castiel swallowed hard as Dean braced his arm over his head along the shower wall, pressing his forehead into his forearm, his jaw clenched. When Castiel glanced down, he could see Dean was tense, his toes curled into the shower floor. The water ran down Dean’s chest and neck, washing some of the soap away. Castiel kept one soapy hand wrapped around Dean’s shaft, returning to that slow and teasing pace, while his other returned to one of his nipples. Dean grunted and gasped when Castiel pinched the pink bud until it stood stiff between his fingers, rubbing and tugging at his cock in time.

 

“Jesus,” Dean hissed with a groan, breathing heavily. “How the fuck are you this big of a cocktease? Goddamn it.”

 

Since he didn’t know the answer, he kept his mouth shut, and just continued to work his hands over Dean’s body. Dean’s cock, slick and soapy in his hand, jerked and twitched when he finally sped up to a fast pace. The shower was so hot and steamy that Castiel could hardly make out Dean’s face anymore, but he focused on his breathing instead - coming in, in ragged, short gasps, intermixed with low groans and rumbles. Lips dry, Castiel licked them and gave one twist of his wrist, and that was all it took. Dean cried out loudly in his ear, sputtering him with a hot, thick load. The jizz coated along his pelvis and ran around his cock and down to his balls. The sensation felt so sensual, Castiel almost came.

 

“Fucking Christ!” Dean cursed, slapping the shower wall above Castiel’s head. “Sorry-shit-oh my _God_ -”

 

“It’s okay,” he insisted, trying to milk Dean the same way that Dean had done him. “Are you okay?”

 

“Yes,” Dean hissed, gently pulling Cas’ hand away as he grew too sensitive. “Jesus, fuck _yes_. That was amazing. Holy shit, Cas. You sure you never done that before?”

 

He blushed and shook his head shyly, “I swear.”

 

A flash of a smile appeared through the steam and then Dean was kissing him, slow and deep. He kept his mouth open, allowing Dean to lick along his teeth and tongue. “You’re crazy sexy,” Dean whispered against his lips. “I wanna fuck you so damn bad.”

 

Heart fluttering, Castiel nodded eagerly. “I want you to fuck me too,” he said quickly. “Really, I do.”

 

Dean kissed him again, nuzzling their foreheads together. “I think I’m in love with you.” His words were so quiet, that Castiel almost hadn’t heard him over the water pounding around them.

 

He whimpered and kissed Dean so eagerly. “Me too,” he agreed, pressing kiss after kiss on Dean’s mouth. “Please, I want to. Please. We don’t need a condom, it’s okay-”

 

Dean shut him up with a open mouthed kiss. Whimpering around Dean’s mouth, they were soon stumbling out of the shower, dripping wet to the bed, Dean picking him up and carrying him. They were slippery and slick, but somehow they made it back to the bed, and Dean levered over him, his hands holding his thighs wide open. Castiel stared up at Dean in wonder and awe, his dick aching for release.

 

“I need lube,” Dean commented then, which sort of brought the mood down, but Castiel figured that was probably true. “Hold on-”

 

When Dean was gone in search of a bottle of lube, Castiel took the moment to regain control of his breathing, and going to lie against the pillows comfortably. It wasn’t long before Dean returned with a bottle, unsnapping the cap and squirting a generous amount in his palm. The initial nervousness gripped his stomach but Dean was gentle as he worked the lube on his fingers, before rubbing the tip of his index finger along the sensitive rim. He keened and whined.

 

“You’re so fuckin’ eager Baby, look at you,” Dean smiled, seemingly proud. “Such a perfect little cockslut.”

 

He nodded fervently. He wanted to be Dean’s cockslut more than anything in this moment. “Yeah,” he whimpered. “Yeah.”

 

Dean smiled, still rubbing his rim before finally starting to tease the tip of his finger inside. Castiel whimpered and clenched down, and Dean paused, his other hand rubbing his hip and side, massaging his muscles to help relax them. “You’re doing _so_ good, Cas,” Dean praised quietly once he relaxed enough for Dean to press the first digit of his finger inside his tight hole.

 

He just kept staring up at Dean, biting his lower lip, his legs so far open he _did_ feel a bit slutty, but it was weirdly arousing. He would gladly be Dean’s slut if he asked. Perhaps a new kink was being born in his mind. Dean worked his finger in until he was fully seated, and then started to move around, stretching and easing him open, praise falling past his lips over and over. Castiel whimpered pathetically when Dean added more lube, a generous amount, and then soon he was being stuffed with another finger, Dean stretching him gently and eagerly.

 

The feeling in his body, as Dean brushed a deep spot over and over, almost sent him completely over the edge. Dean’s breathing was just as ragged as his own. They moved together as one, Dean’s fingers working magic. “Dean-” he whimpered. “Dean, I’m-”

 

“Come, Baby. Come on.” Fingers began to work him earnestly, and Castiel practically screamed when he came, this orgasm stronger and harder than the other. He heard Dean saying _yes_ over and over,but he couldn’t focus on Dean right now. He shut his eyes, thrusting his hips back at Dean until everything was too much. Thankfully, Dean understood and released him, gently pulling away.

 

As the orgasm faded in waves, Castiel slowly opened his eyes, realizing that he must look just as Dean had looked only moments ago, completely blissed. “Thank you,” he said.

 

Dean grinned. “No, thank _you_.”

 

Castiel puckered his lips. Dean eagerly leaned down to kiss him, slow and sensual. “Did you mean what you said in the shower?” he whispered. “About loving me?”

 

A blush darkened Dean’s cheeks but he nodded. “Yeah, I think I do.”

 

“I think I love you too,” he replied with another kiss.

 

Dean nuzzled him. “Well, then I’m the luckiest man on the planet, now aren’t I?”

 

He smiled and kissed Dean again.

 

☣☢☣☢

 

The house was silent when he came home. Dean had walked him to the door, given him a kiss good night, and promised to visit him in the morning. The front room was dark, and even the porch light hadn’t been on, which was unusual for Gabriel. He needed to call Ruby to tell her about what had happened, but first he wanted to check on Gabriel. Despite his anger, despite his rage even, he felt worried that perhaps something was wrong. He had almost asked Dean to stay, but Gabriel’s car was in the driveway, so he was home.

 

 _He’s just asleep_ , he told himself as he locked the door. The top of the stairs seemed too far away, so Castiel started to call Gabriel’s name as he went up them. “Gabriel? Gabe? Gabe, where you?”

 

 _Please be okay, you can’t have done something stupid over this fight._ Still calling his brother’s name, Castiel rushed down the hallway to bang on Gabe’s door. He tried the door handle, it was locked. He pounded on the door then, listening to it rattle on its hinges, and suddenly he knew what it was like to be in Gabriel’s shoes. He knew what it was like to be on the other side, feeling helpless and lost. “Gabriel!!”

 

Even the cats weren’t coming to investigate. Where were _they_? One more time, Castiel hit the door, and then he almost fell because it was being yanked open, Gabriel staring at him as if he had lost his mind.

 

“Cas? What the hell is wrong with you?” Gabriel asked, his speech slightly slurred.

 

“Oh, you’re okay-” He threw his arms around Gabe’s shoulders in a tight hug. “It was so quiet, and then you didn’t answer-I got worried-but you’re okay, you’re okay.”

 

“Okay is relative,” was the cold response, and Castiel flinched. “Can I go back to bed now, Cas?”

 

He didn’t want to let Gabriel go but he told himself that they could talk in the morning, when Gabriel wasn’t drunk and grumpy. He gave his brother another squeeze, and then released him. The door was soon shut in his face. Castiel stared at the white door for a moment, before slowly going to his bedroom, where he relaxed further; the cats were asleep in a furpile on his bed. Things really were going to be okay. He was feeling better, Dean would be getting out soon, and he and Gabriel could work their soreness out in the morning.

 

Once the adrenaline left, Castiel realized how tired his body felt, and how sore his thighs were. Dean had done a number on him. Maybe tomorrow he would buy condoms to make Dean feel better about having full on intercourse. They hadn’t tonight, because Dean had been spent, and soon after he had recovered from the fingering, Jess had returned home. But maybe tomorrow. Tossing his clothes aside, Castiel pulled on a huge t shirt and crawled around the cats to hug his pillow and sleep.

 

☣☢☣☢

 

“Good morning, Gabriel,” Castiel greeted when his brother finally made a grumpy and tired appearance in the kitchen. “Do you want some eggs?” He had woken up early to make Gabe breakfast, but if Gabe was hungover he may not want anything to eat except coffee.

 

Gabriel grunted and poured coffee into his favorite mug before turning and walking towards the backdoor to sit out on the back porch. Castiel sighed and finished scrambling the eggs before turning the burner on low to go outside to sit next to Gabe on the swing. The silence that laid over them like a blanket was not their usual comfortable silence; it was choked and awkward.

 

Ruined.

 

“Gabriel, I’m really sorry,” he whispered. Dean had spoken to him last night, about how he should forgive his brother because he only had one like Gabe, and even though he was the kid, he should be the bigger person. In the back of his mind, he had known Dean to be right. “I didn’t mean to say I hate you yesterday. I don’t _hate_ you. I love you, you’re my brother. I know you made a mistake, but you were just trying to protect me, just like always. I’m not mad anymore…. Are you?”

 

Gabriel’s jaw set, his teeth grinding together, and the choking silence continued onward before finally they met eye to eye. Castiel could see the pain flash in Gabriel’s before he stared at him desperately. “I’m sorry too, Cas. You’re right, I was just trying to protect you, that’s all. I know I can’t stop you from seeing Dean, even if I _do_ think it’s… awkward. If he makes you happy, and he’s good to you, and he cares about you, then that’s all I can really ask for.”

 

“So, you don’t mind me seeing Dean?” he asked with a hopeful smile.

 

“I mind, but it’s your choice, and I’ll try to keep any comments I have to myself, alright?” Gabriel held out his hand. “That’s all I can promise.”

 

He dropped his eyes to Gabe’s hand and gave it a firm shake. “Deal.”

 

Castiel decided last minute that he would _not_ tell Gabriel about the sex.

 

☣☢☣☢

 

Two fingers had made him feel full. Stuffed, even.

 

Dean’s dick made him feel as if he were about to turn inside out, but god _damn_ was it worth it. They were in the living room, which while Castiel did not see this as a romantic “first time” he didn’t care either. His legs were sprawled open, Dean’s left hand on his right knee, and his right hand on his left thigh, holding him down as he thrust quick and shallow. The wet noises of the amount lube they had used filled the room, as did his whimpers, and the sound of ball slapping sex.

 

The room sounded like a live porno.

 

And Dean kept praising him as if he wanted to die with the phrases on his lips. “ _You’re so good Cas,”_  and _“Fuck yeah, Baby, so fucking tight, I love it”_ kept rolling off of his tongue. He just kept staring, his eyes wide, pupils blown out, and Dean kept telling him that he looked like a sex kitten. It was a strangely arousing compliment.

 

Dean pumped his hips faster, really going for gold, trying to bring them both to orgasm at the same time. He arched up slightly, one hand going to Dean’s wrist, the other sliding up to grasp Dean’s bicep; Dean had amazing biceps. His stomach may not have been a six pack like Sam’s, but his _biceps_. Dean could toss him around and pick him up, manhandle him with ease; it made Dean even sexier. There was something about being manhandled, and then in the same breath, cuddled and taken care of, that flipped his switch.

 

“I’m-close-” Dean gasped, trying to speed up more.

 

He nodded, unable to voice how close he was, but his toes curled so hard they cracked. When he came, it was hard and violent, almost squeezing Dean almost right out of his body. Usually, Dean was pretty low and guttural when he orgasmed, but this time he cried out loudly, slamming his hips forward and burying himself deep inside Cas. Their breathing slowly evened out and then Dean was pulling out and stumbling back a few steps to remove the condom so he could dispose of it in the kitchen’s trash can.

 

When Dean returned, he sank down next to him on the couch to rest, stroking and petting Castiel’s inner thigh along his pulse. “ _You_ are the most amazing person I’ve ever had the pleasure of being with.”

 

Castiel smiled and looked over at Dean. “Yeah?”

 

“Yeah… Sucks that I gotta return tomorrow.”

 

“Shhh,” he whispered, finally rolling to press into Dean’s side. “Don’t talk about it.” Lazily, Castiel began to pet the back of Dean’s head, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. Neither of them wanted to bring up the elephant in the room. Dean had to return tomorrow morning, and neither of them were prepared.

 

“It’s only until April,” Dean whispered gently. “Real soon.”

 

“Not soon enough,” he replied sadly.

 

Dean pressed their foreheads together. “Soon, Cas. Soon.”

 

He nodded, nuzzling against Dean’s face. They really should have gotten dressed, but Castiel wanted to show he appreciated Dean even more by sliding off of the couch and eagerly taking his soft cock into his mouth to keep him warm. Dean hummed, content, and they remained that way until Dean started to stir and grew hard again. This time Castiel hummed eagerly starting to suck; he had never given a blow job before, but no one could say he wasn’t enthusiastic to learn.

 

“Easy-easy-” Dean pulled him back by his hair gently. “Slow, Baby, slow. Just start at the tip, okay? You don’t gotta choke it all down at once.”

 

Taking Dean’s advice, Castiel focused on licking and sucking along the head of Dean’s cock, eagerly tasting the salty precome that formed quickly, working some of it down his length to make for a slick handjob. Dean stared down at him, content and happy… until Castiel’s hands wandered to cup his sac, and then he was flinching and pulling his hands away. “Did I hurt you?” he asked.

 

“It’s just a little sensitive still, that’s all. You can just focus on my dick, okay?”

 

“ _Fine_.” He pressed a quick kiss to Dean’s thigh before running his tongue up the bottom of Dean’s shaft, along the vein. A shudder ran through Dean’s body as Castiel started to slowly taking more of his length into his mouth, working it slow and careful. He wanted to think that there was never too much of a good thing, but Dean kept pulling him back when he went too far.

 

“Don’t want you to choke,” was Dean’s quiet explanation.

 

He rolled his eyes, but continued to suck on what Dean allowed him. The smell of Dean was enough to make Castiel feel aroused and eager; he smelled of sweat, salt, and there was that undertone of leather that made his body ache with want. He also tasted _clean_ , since Dean insisted on showering after they were finished fooling around. Which he supposed he should have been thankful for, since touching dirty men did not sound appealing, and he sure as hell was not about to put a dirty body part in his mouth.

 

When Dean started to pant and make the desperate sounds he made in the back of his throat, Castiel knew he was close. He pulled back to just holding Dean’s tip in his mouth, licking on the ridge until Dean cried out and came. If he hadn’t had a good hold of Dean’s shaft, he would have gotten a faceful instead of a mouthful. The taste of semen was new to him, and he had to admit, it wasn’t as bad as he had been brought up to believe it would be. Ruby had told him once that she _hated_ the taste, but Dean didn’t taste too awful. Maybe he was partially love blind, but he would gladly go down on Dean again.

 

“Fuck,” Dean whispered, relaxing back into the couch. “You don’t gotta swal-” Castiel swallowed.

 

“I don’t mind,” he told him honestly. “It wasn’t that bad.”

 

“Well, um… That’s good-I guess…” Dean replied, visibly gulping. Castiel could tell he was aroused.

 

He smiled, lying his head on Dean’s thigh. “I don’t want you to leave tomorrow,” he whispered.

 

Dean sighed and nodded in silent agreement. “Let’s go shower.”

 

Castiel nodded, hearing Dean’s silent, _Me too_. He had to go to school tomorrow and Dean had to return to jail. It wasn’t really fair to either of them, but he supposed Dean had the shorter stick, even if school felt like jail sometimes. “Okay. Let’s go shower.”

 

☣☢☣☢

 

Returning to school after being absent for so long felt bizarre, but when Castiel came into homeroom - a little late since Gabriel had forgotten he was even needing to _go_ to school - his classmates all stared at him for a moment, which made him blush, before they all stood up (every single one of them) and hugged him. He hadn’t been prepared for that much attention or affection, and it had made him a little anxious, but they were all just so _happy_ to see him alive and well. It was strange, having the people that he barely knew, or the ones who had always been around to torture him, showing him real concern and joy that he was alright. But in the end, Ruby waited to hug him last, and they held onto each other for dear life. He still had to tell her about Dean, but that could wait for lunchtime gossip.

 

Mrs. Winchester gave him a warm hug too, and he had been excused for all of the work he had missed, she explained. He hated that he had missed so much, but they were determined to catch him up to speed. His first class went on as if he hadn't missed school at all afterwards, and then gym was right after. He could even participate without feeling faint or sick today, which was a goal he had never believed he would reach. Alastair turned to look at him when he came in with Ruby, setting their books on the metal bleachers in the gym.

 

“Castiel,” Alastair called. “Come see me for a moment.”

 

“Oh boy,” he muttered to Ruby.

 

“Good luck,” she whispered back before heading to the locker room.

 

Alastair still resembled Slender Man, and dodgeball was still the bane of his existence, but he did not feel as intimidated. Not today, maybe not ever again. He had beat back cancer with a vengeance, and his doctor had given him a clean bill of health yesterday. When he came to stand in front of Alastair, he held his hands behind his back and waited for what scolding he was about to receive for missing too many classes.

 

There was a pause, where Alastair look uncomfortable, his mouth twisting as if he had tasted a lemon. “It is good to see you doing better,” he said, the words coming out slowly, as he tried each word on his tongue. Castiel was surprised the man didn’t go up in black smoke for issuing him a compliment.

 

“Wow,” he said, which was, in hindsight, probably very rude, but he couldn’t help it. Since when did Alastair _care_ about him? “I mean-thank you. Sir.”

 

“Go change your clothes.”

 

And that was the end of the niceties. It was better than nothing. “It’s good to be back,” he said, before heading over to the locker room to change into the new gym clothes he had brought, since his old ones needed taken out of his locker and washed.

 

When they returned to do quick laps, Castiel ran with the rest of the class, feeling good to pump his legs and jog. He wished they could have went outside to run on the track, but then he supposed his asthma would have started acting up. For each lap he ran, he walked another, to keep his breathing in check. He just hoped that they wouldn’t be playing dodgeball today.

 

“In light of your classmates return,” Alastair said as they all came to rest and sit on the floor from their laps. “We will be playing his favorite game.”

 

 _Oh no_.

 

“Badminton.”

 

The class all turned to look at him, and soon they were fighting over him, as if he were suddenly a treasure trove. Everyone wanted him on _their_ team, and he wasn’t sure what to do with all of this attention. Maybe dodgeball would have been a better choice after all…

 

☣☢☣☢

 

“So, what’s it like?” Ruby asked. She was toying with a french fry in her hands, her blonde hair hanging around her face today. “Sex, that is?”

 

Castiel took a breath and a bite of his own french fry, mind going back to how everything had been so surprisingly pleasurable. His sexual identity was in a crisis, and he wasn’t even sure what to do about it. “Good,” he admitted.

 

“Yeah? Like… really good or just like,” she did the so-so hand gesture.

 

“ _Really_ good. He hadn’t had sex in _ten years_ , and he didn’t want to at first- I mean he did. But he was apprehensive, and then I just… I asked him if he would masturbate in front of me, which he did, and then we kinda just got… carried away,” he told her slowly, his face heating up with each word. Soon his skin felt like it had been lit on fire, and he could only stare at his lunch tray.

 

“ _Nice_ ,” Ruby replied. “Look at you, gettin’ what you want out of a grown ass man.”

 

“You don’t think I pushed it too far, do you?” he asked then, worry tinging the edges of his voice.

 

“Trust me Cas, he _wanted_ to bang your butt. I promise. So, when are you gonna see him again?”

 

“Well, I’m hoping to get driving really soon, so I’m just going to visit him every Wednesday after that, and then he’s out the third of April. I’ll keep writing him too, but I’d rather see him in person.” He knew that Dean looked forward to his letters, and he had asked him Sunday night to keep writing so he had something to look forward to in his last few months. Castiel had immediately agreed to keep writing him.

 

“That’s cool. You guys are so gross.” Ruby rolled her eyes and went to throw her trash in the trash can before rejoining him at the table. “ _So_ , what’s it like being _almost_ completely normal?”

 

Castiel looked around and turned his eyes on the cafeteria, watching his peers interact with one another. On the outside, they all more or less looked the same - two eyes, a nose, hands, feet… and they all smiled, laughed, had fun with their friends. They didn’t have to worry about chemotherapy or going to the hospital, and they didn’t have to worry about their incarcerated lovers, but now he only had to worry about one out of three. His remission was in full swing, and he only had to see the doctor every now and again for a checkup to see how he everything was going. For once, he was _normal_ \- more or less.

 

“It’s kinda weird,” he admitted. “Like… what the hell am I gonna do after school now?” He turned a smile on Ruby, and she slowly smiled back at him.

 

“Oh I don’t know, I heard kids really like to play video games after school.”

  
“Video games it is.”

 


	15. Tell Him

 

Dean smiled when he saw that Castiel had signed the letter with the words _Love_ , which was a first. Also, today was Wednesday so he should be seeing Cas in a few hours. A sudden need to freshen up seemed necessary since he had been out sweating his ass off doing manual labor. Sam would mock him for being so paranoid about his looks, but he didn’t want to stink up the place, let alone make Cas recoil away from him. He could already hear Benny chuckling and see him shaking his head.

 

 _“Yer in love,”_ Benny would say _. “It’s kind of gross.”_

 

Dean smiled and slowly stood up, gathering up a clean uniform and his bathroom supplies. “Yeah,” he whispered to the nothing. “But it’s kinda worth it, Benny, it really is.”

 

Castiel’s count had fourteen more days left, but since he had gotten the letter, it was now only ten more days. _Ten more days_ and he would be free. Walking out into the real world sounded terrifying and liberating all in one breath. Arrangements had been made for him to live with Sam and Jess until he was back on his feet. Guilt had been eating at him, since he had no desire to ruin the newlywed’s lives, but Sam had insisted.

 

 _‘I won’t have you living in a halfway house or something_ ’, Sam had said.

 

So he was to live with his brother, like the good old days. Not that their old days had been _good_ , considering they had either been starving or left alone for hours, if not both. He didn’t want to think on that. He would see Cas and Sam today, and that would be enough to get him through the next ten days. The walk to the shower was uneventful and he rinsed off quickly so he could look somewhat decent for Cas. He was tempted to shave, but he knew that Cas liked the scruff, so he kept it, even if it was hot. When  it was time, he went to join the others, lining up like excited children to see their families. Dean scanned the room, his eyes falling to their usual table. He expected to see Cas or Sam, if not both of them, but that wasn’t who sat at the table.

 

Straightening his back, shoulders, and holding his head up, Dean walked over to the table, sinking down into the chair slowly. He kept his eyes on his hands, where they rested, clenching together so tightly his fingers turned white. Heart beating so fast, he had to take an extra breath to compensate.

 

“Heard you were getting out soon,” John Winchester said slowly.

 

Dean clenched his jaw and glared at the table. He didn’t speak.

 

“Speak when I’m talking to you, Boy,” John snapped then, just like when Dean had been a child.

 

Slowly, Dean looked up to study his father; he was old now, in his fifties, his hair was graying, the stubble on his face speckled salt and pepper. Dark circles hung beneath his eyes like extra sockets, and his stomach and face had gotten fatter, softer. He still looked like the mean son of a bitch from his childhood, but he seemed weaker somehow. The backs of John’s hands had spider veins, his fingers were rough and the nails had countless dirt and grease under them. The stench of alcohol made his stomach churn, with an undertone of cigarette smoke.

 

“What are you doing here?” he finally asked, tired and exhausted. “Where’s Sam?”

 

“I don’t know where your brother is, but I heard about you, and I figured I’d come see how my son turned out-”

 

“I’m not your son,” Dean growled low and dangerous. “I will never _be_ your son. You left Sam and I to _die_ on a daily fucking basis… I am in here because of _you_. Mom left us because of _you_. You disgust me, and I never want to see you _ever_ again.” He stood up, ready to leave his father here. “You can _rot_ with your alcohol and smokes. _Fuck_ you.”

 

The room went silent.

 

Dean had raised his voice without realizing, and Rufus had stiffened by the door, ready to pounce. He wanted to spit in his father’s face, but _ten more days_ , he reminded himself. Turning on his heel, Dean went to exit the room, almost knocking into another guard and- “Cas,” he gasped.

 

“Hello Dean,” Castiel said with a dreamy smile. “Sorry I’m late. They said it was okay. Where are you going?”

 

He turned to face Rufus then, stiff and angry. “Get him out of here,” he said, which made Castiel frown,. He would never send Cas away unless his life would have been in danger. Rufus nodded, so Dean stood off to the side with Cas, and the female guard who had been escorting him.

 

“What’s going on?” Castiel asked.

 

“Explain it to you in a minute,” he replied calmly. Rufus was speaking with John, but his father clearly did not want to leave.

 

“I came here to talk to my boy! Dean, get over here damn it-” John demanded as he stood up, pointing at the chair firmly.

 

With Castiel’s wide eyes on him, Dean remained where he stood, holding himself proudly. The entire room was watching the scene with curious eyes, but Dean did not back down. Rufus soon had his father restrained and they were marching out of the room. He _almost_ took Castiel by the hand, but he refrained; instead they walked over to the now empty table to have seats in opposite chairs.

 

“What was that about?” Castiel whispered.

 

Dean glanced around the room, and slowly it returned to normal, and they could speak at a normal level. “That was my father,” he replied stiffly. “Do you know where Sam is?”

 

“Oh, he called me, and asked me to tell you that he had to go into work. I guess there was an emergency. He said he was sorry, and he’d see you in about a week.” Castiel smiled brightly. “Did you get my letter?”

 

“Yeah, Baby, I got your letter,” he replied. When speaking with Castiel, Dean used an affectionate tone. Castiel could have spat in his face and called him a sick pervert and he still would have used the same tone. “Did you drive yourself?”

 

“Yeah, that’s why I’m late. I’m still kinda nervous when I drive, so I drive at the speed limit and then I got behind even slower-than-me people, and I’ll be honest, I’m not comfortable with passing yet, so I just stayed at turtle speed until they turned off. You look nice.”

 

Dean smiled and rubbed the back of his neck. Cas’ compliments still left him like a blushing schoolboy, it was ridiculous, but at least Cas had noticed his cleanliness. “Thanks, I just showered before you came.”

 

“See _that_ should be the first thing you do,” Castiel said. “Take a super hot shower.”

 

“Nah, still gonna kiss you breathless,” Dean replied with a smile.

 

Castiel rolled his eyes. “You already did that.”

 

“So? I ain’t ever gonna sick of it. You gonna be here when they let me loose?” he asked.

 

Castiel nodded. “I have school but I’ll come over to Sam’s house right after, I promise.”

 

Disappointment filled him when he remembered that Castiel had to return to school. He wanted him _here_. He wanted to kiss Castiel until they were in tears, but he couldn’t have everything he wanted, so he just nodded in acceptance. “Good. I look forward to it.”

 

“What do you want to eat that first night?”

 

To be honest, Dean hadn’t thought on food or what he really _wanted_ to eat when he returned home. A burger, fries, and a milkshake would do, he supposed. “The usual,” he said with a shrug. “Burger, fries, and a milkshake.”

 

“That’s _it_? Man, you are not creative at _all_ ,” Cas teased. “I would have at least asked for steak.”

 

Dean chuckled. “Whoa, let’s not get crazy now.” A smile filled Castiel’s face, and Dean wished he could have bottled it up and put it on a string so he could wear it around his neck. Whenever he felt sad or down, he could simply grasp the bottled smile and stare at it until the bad feelings went away, but he couldn’t do that, so memory would have to suffice until science made such a feat possible. “I love you, Cas,” he whispered.

 

Castiel nodded. “I love you too.”

 

“When I get out of here, I’m gonna make love to you.”

 

“Promise?” Castiel asked.

 

He nodded. “Promise.”

 

☣☢☣☢

 

This was it.

 

Ten years later Dean stood in front of the jail compound ready to leave. Sam was here to pick him up, a smile on his face. He had said his goodbyes to the few friends he had left, weren’t many, and he had a box of his belongings in his arms. After being searched for the last time, Dean stared at the blue sky above his head, a smile on his face. The air was warm against his face, and slowly Dean took one step.

 

Then another.

 

His first steps as a free man were light and easy. It was two in the afternoon which had been the only time Sam could pick him up. His Baby was supposed to be in the driveway, waiting for him. He had to get his license again, but Sam promised that she still ran and drove like a dream. He had her tuned up for him so when he was ready he could hop in and drive. For now, Sam would be his escort until he could have his license renewed. They were going to stop by the store to buy him some new clothes, and then Dean had asked Sam to take him to Castiel’s school. He wanted to see him when he got out.

 

Sam put his box in the trunk, and then they were in the car, and Dean realized that he did not have to come back. If he stayed out of trouble, he would never be back again. The weight of the system lifted off of his shoulders as he rolled down his window and allowed the warm air to ruffle through his hair. He could eat hamburgers, take real showers, and go on walks with Cas while they held hands and ate ice cream. Sam had spoken to his boss about having Dean work as a janitor in their office, while not glamorous, was still legal money he could earn. It would be better than nothing.

 

Castiel had suggested he make a list of things he wanted to do when out of jail, so the list was folded up in his pocket for reading and checking off. So far it consisted of the following items:

 

1\. Eating burgers (so many burgers)

2\. Sex. So much sex. (or as much sex as Cas wants to have)

3\. Get a job

4\. Keep that job

5\. Earn money

6\. Get an apartment

7\. Get a nice apartment

8\. Take walks

9\. Pick up jogging

10\. Tell him

 

Dean smiled, his eyes shut as he thought on the day prior. He would tell him as soon as he saw Cas leave. Then he would kiss Cas breathless.

 

☣☢☣☢

 

Castiel rushed down the hallway, his backpack smacking him in the butt with each step, but he didn’t bother to readjust. It was April 3rd. Dean was _free_ today, and he was going to drive over to Sam’s as soon as he reached his car. After apologizing to Ruby for taking off with barely another word, he had been practically running to reach the front doors. The crowd swarmed the doors like animals trying to escape the zoo, but finally Castiel was free. The sun was so bright that it took him a moment to adjust, and for a moment, he believed his eyes were playing a trick on him.

 

But no.

 

Dean really _was_ standing beneath the flagpole, leaning against it casually, one of his legs crossed in front of the other. Tears filled his eyes and he took off in a run, practically tackling Dean backwards when he launched at him, throwing his arms around his neck. Dean grunted, grabbing onto the flagpole with one hand to keep them steady as their mouths sealed together in a firm kiss. He squeezed Dean tightly around the neck with both arms, rising up on tiptoe to be eye level with Dean as they (rather obscenely) made out.

 

When they parted, he did not go far, allowing Dean to press his forehead to his own. They were both crying, and Castiel felt a little stupid for crying over something so happy. He couldn’t stop smiling. “Sorry,” he gasped. “I ruined your moment.”

 

Dean frowned. “What?”

 

“You said you were going to kiss me breathless, I screwed up.”

 

Dean chuckled and nuzzled at him. “I don’t care,” he replied. “I’m just happy to see you.”

 

For once, Castiel did not care that there were people passing them and giving them strange looks. He didn’t care that other parents were muttering and whispering concerns. Dean was _here_ , and Dean was free. That was all he cared about.

 

“I’ve got something I gotta tell you,” Dean said then, sounding serious.

 

“What?” he asked, not moving away from Dean, keeping their bodies pressed together.

 

When Dean spoke again, he spoke slowly, as if he were unsure without what he was about to say. “I went to the doc the other day.”

 

“Yeah?” Fear gripped him then, making his stomach clench. “Is everything okay?”

 

A slow smile fell into place on Dean’s face, and it made his green eyes brighter. “I’m in remission,” he whispered.

 

Castiel gasped. “Remission? Really?” When Dean nodded, they kissed again, more slowly this time, relishing in the tenderness and affection. It wasn’t until Sam called to them that they pulled apart. “We should probably make out somewhere else,” he whispered.

 

Dean laughed. “Okay, Baby. Just tell me where and I’ll be there.”

 

Pride filled Castiel’s chest. They were going to be okay. Dean was in remission, _he_ was in remission. They had both kicked cancer’s butt, and become more than friends. He had found the love of his life, was fairly convinced. “I guess we’re both free today,” he whispered.

  
Dean nodded in agreement.

 


End file.
